No More a Savage Life: Chapter Two
by lovinghannibal
Summary: Sequel to No More a Savage Life. To what lengths will Hannibal go to protect what is his? When he is forced to defend his new family, will Clarice accept Hannibal's true nature? Rated M for violence and expressive sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

**NO MORE A SAVAGE LIFE-CHAPTER TWO**

**The characters contained herein are not my property. They are the brilliant and inspired creation of the author, Thomas Harris. The following scenarios and exchanges are written to enjoy and honor his creation with admiration. The only thing I own are the ancillary characters, the plot I develop and the dialogue not associated with Thomas Harris' work.**

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

_**This is a sequel to No More a Savage Life  and although it can stand alone, I suggest reading the first installment before reading this segment as characters were introduced and developed in a way that impacts how this story developed. Fair warning the both installment are rated M for fairly expressive sexual situations.**_

_**If you take the time to read, please consider reviewing the chapters. It's enjoyable to see where people are in the story and your thoughts allow me to share the experience with you. I will respond to each and every review. Please enjoy with my thanks and best wishes! **_

_**LH**_

**No More a Savage Life- Chapter Two**

The first days and weeks immediately following the wedding, Clarice and Hannibal rarely left their lush Patagonian compound. They ventured out now and then for groceries and supplies, but the bulk of their time was spent walking their property arm in arm; learning about it as they learned about each other.

The pair had just returned from a particularly long walk. Hannibal, ever the gentleman held the door to their home open for his wife, allowing her to enter. She smiled as he dutifully followed her. Upon entering the foyer, as she passed, Hannibal took Clarice's hand and kissed it.

"Would you mind if I played piano for a while, my Love? It is excellent therapy. I am attempting to regain my technique and it would be best not to let a day pass without a bit of work."

Clarice was uncomfortable with the subject of his self-mutilation. She reached for his hand and stroked the scar as was her habit when the feeling of guilt was upon her. It was a deep rose color, ridged like a piece of thin rope had been laced under the flesh where the thick keloid had developed though the actual seam of the scar was exceptionally even. Seeing Clarice was obsessing over the injury, Hannibal sought to ease her anguish.

"It is a rather exceptional repair is it not? Especially when one considers how quickly the arrangements were made and how hastily the surgery was performed. I am tremendously pleased with the result. I have very little loss of sensation. Yes...I was exceptionally fortunate."

Pulling him close Clarice spoke against his ear. The tone was just a breath below her normal speaking voice, but her words were filled with emotion.

"Is it getting better? Is there any pain?"

Hannibal slipped his hand beneath the curtain of her hair and brushed a kiss along her cheek as he closed and locked the door to their home with his free hand. His voice was rich with concern for her as he sought to console, "Every day more of my technique returns to me. There is no longer any pain, so please do not let this trouble you. It doesn't trouble me."

Clarice rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beating strong and steady. Running her hands up his back, Clarice pulled him close.

"There aren't any words I can think of to tell you how sorry I am. When I see the scar, knowing I drove you to it, all that pain, it breaks my heart. I'm so sorry, H."

Hannibal tightened the embrace and rested his chin on her shoulder speaking very tenderly against her ear, "No words are needed, Clarice. I feel it in every kiss… in every touch."

Breathing slowly she again reached for his hand and pressed his palm to her cheek kissing the ridged scar where it appeared the most obvious and she assumed, the most sensitive. He lips brushed the area along his inner wrist where his flesh was most tender.

Hannibal was experiencing a flood of sensory input. Unaccustomed to her presence in his life and still making daily adjustments to her presence, he closed his eyes to limit the stimulation as he attempted to extrapolate how she was feeling based on the information he was processing.

_Though she is holding me close to her body and pheromones are being released as if she were aroused, she seems sad. There is too much stimuli and no context from which I can process and assess the input. I am unsure. _

He inclined his head slightly and traced his thumb across her lips as he considered her thoughts. Unable to come to a determination, he sought an explanation.

"I am not yet acclimated to the natural range of your emotions, Clarice. Additionally, your current physiology and body language seem incongruous. Do you mind if I ask, what are you thinking?"

"It's just that..." Clarice was obviously tremendously pained by his injury. She continued, "I don't know how you can be so unaffected by this. You cut your goddamned hand off! Doesn't it...don't you...never mind."

Believing she thought him limited in some way by the injury, Hannibal took Clarice by the hand and walked with her to the music room. He guided her to sit on the bench beside him. As he rested his hands on the keys he continued the conversation as he proficiently worked on his scales.

As his hands flew up and down the length of the keyboard, he questioned, "Never mind what, Clarice? Please continue. As intuitive as I am and though I am certain I will develop the ability, I cannot _yet_ approach your unspoken thoughts."

Clarice listened intently to the notes and watched his hands move up and down the keyboard. She remained silent.

Hannibal pursued as he fluidly moved from scales to arpeggios, "Clarice...you are holding on to what seems to be a very serious question. It is obviously disturbing you, so much so that I can feel the weight of it. You will find relief in the asking of it."

Breathing deeply, Clarice released the question with her exhalation, "You didn't cry out, not a whimper, not a sound. How? The pain…it must have been…"

Hannibal leaned toward her, his hands still moving along the keyboard as his voice whispered along her neck, "_Exquisite_, Clarice."

Clarice arched her neck and exposed her throat allowing Hannibal to search her pulse points with his mouth. He was so gentle and had developed a way of calming her that was immediate and quite disarming. Though she was responding to his attention, her focus remained on his injury, "Exquisite? Why exquisite? What would make you choose that word? There was nothing elegant in the injury. It was violent and gory."

"The duality of the word is appropriate as it equally infers both pain and pleasure." He continued to attend to her flesh, speaking against her throat and teasing gently with his teeth.

"I get the pain, H...I don't get what you mean by pleasure. What the hell kind of pleasure could you find in maiming yourself and self-inflicting that kind of injury?

Hannibal continued to play the piano as his mouth searched her neck. Hannibal answered, "Because, my Love, it was my pain and not yours."

Clarice shifted against him. His presence often made it difficult for her to concentrate. "I know you don't regret it now, but did you _ever_ regret it?"

Hannibal stopped playing and swung a leg over the bench. He was now straddling it and facing her. He wrapped his arms around his wife's waist and pulled her against his body. "It was a decision quickly made but never regretted." He kissed the top of her head.

Clarice buried her face against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. "So much suffering..."

Hannibal took her face gently into his cupped hands and lifted her head off his chest, tilting her chin back slightly allowing their eyes to meet. He kissed her gently on the lips.

"Pain is fleeting and forgotten quickly my Love. Your feelings of guilt are self-imposed. To free yourself from it you must reconcile my actions with my emotions."

Clarice shook her head and looked away. "I don't know how to do that."

He lifted her chin and held it until she met his gaze again. "Allow me to help you."

Hannibal brushed a gentle kiss against her right cheek.

"You must understand there would have been far more suffering for me had the injury been to you. Know that I would have joyfully surrendered both hands to spare you even a moment of that pain."

Still holding her face, his intense eyes locked on hers, he placed another kiss, this to her left cheek.

"You have no guilt in this Clarice. You were not an accomplice to my injury, it was a fait accompli. The actions of my past delivered me to that moment and led me to that decision; to that conclusion."

"No, I did it. I trapped you. I might as well have grabbed the cleaver and chopped your hand off myself!"

Hannibal's hands left her face and traveled down to her hips and pulled her tighter to his body.

Clarice shifted her position, confused by the mixed signals. Hannibal was focused.

"You feel anguish because you believe that the removal of my hand was the act of a desperate man."

"Yes."

"You believe that I was powerless and as such I became a victim of violence in your eyes."

"Yes."

"But it was not an act of desperation, rather one of protection; a man protecting the woman he loved from pain. It was a sacrifice born, not of desperation, but of a heart filled only with love for you."

He coiled his arms around her and pulled her tighter still, to the point where she was uncomfortable. "If it were necessary to do so could you free yourself from me, Clarice?"

"Not easily, but, yes…I think so."

"You are not trapped…merely being detained, yes?"

"Yes."

"What is your state of mind, Clarice? Are you desperate to be free of me?"

"No…I'm uncomfortable but I'm not desperate."

"If you desired freedom would there be more than one way by which you might achieve that objective?"

"Yes. There are several ways…why?"

"That is precisely my point, Clarice. I was merely being detained and as such there was no need for desperation. I had at my disposal endless choices, infinite scenarios. In one scenario, yours, I am the victim. In my scenario I am quite the opposite and as you had no control over my choice, you have no culpability in my decision. You have no guilt. I was never powerless, rather, in that moment I was omnipotent…all-powerful. The final choice of which action to take was mine alone. I chose to be Power…to be Protector. It is not in my nature to choose Victim. Do you understand the distinction?"

"Yes, I do… I just never thought of it that way."

"Please, for my sake and your own, absolve yourself of all guilt and let this be the last we speak of this."

Hannibal softened his hold on his wife, lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. Clarice smiled. "I really do love you, H."

"And it is for that love that I would gladly have surrendered not only my hand but my life as well."

"Don't say that, H. I know it's true, but don't..." Seeking levity, Clarice slapped him playfully on his backside.

"Play your piano…practice makes perfect."

"Practice makes perfect only if one is perfect in the practice, Clarice."

"Don't be such a smart ass, H!"

Before returning to the keyboard, Hannibal looked deeply into her eyes, his crimson glowing within her blue, "I really do love you as well, Clarice."

"I know, H...I know."

**C.R.R.**

Ardelia was called into Pearsall's office along with Lloyd Bowman. She assumed it was in reference to a string of killings along Washington's I-95 corridor stretching into Virginia.

"Hey, Lloyd heard anything about this? What's going on?"

Lloyd was leaning against a water cooler and thumbing through a manila folder as he spoke, "I think they've made a few connections with the missing people and the body they uncovered last week. I did a little research before coming up here…I think we've got another serial killer on the loose."

Pearsall opened the door to his office.

"We'll be meeting in the conference room. I've got two detectives from D.C. homicide. They've got some information on a series of murders. It's crossed several state lines so it's in our court no, so you two will be joining the task force."

Bowman and Mapp followed Pearsall to the conference room and took seats. D.C.P.D. representatives were already present.

"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce the agents we discussed, Special Agent Lloyd Bowman and Special Agent Ardelia Mapp. They'll be taking lead on this case so any and all information and evidence will be disseminated through them. Bowman will handle forensics and Mapp will cover the field work."

One of the D.C. detectives stood and passed out manila folders.

"This is an overview of the cases we have identified as being committed by the same perpetrator. There may be more but these are confirmed. He kills them…then he carves them like a butcher."

"He's a cannibal? Are we sure it isn't Lecter? His body was never found." Bowman's curiosity peaked.

"This killer isn't as skilled as Lecter. He isn't as precise or refined…more the ability of a butcher and less of a surgeon." The lead detective commented.

Bowman continued. "Lecter could have adjusted his methods to appear less sophisticated, he…"

Ardelia interjected. "First of all, Lecter was a freaking genius not an idiot. He took pride in his intellect and in his ability to out think us at every turn…he would never insult his own intelligence by dumbing himself down not to get caught. Not to mention he had already escaped our custody and only returned because he wanted Clarice. He would never stay in this area if there was any chance he survived his wound. She was the only thing that kept Lecter here. With her gone…he would have no reason to take such a risk."

Pearsall stared at Ardelia. "When the hell did you become a Lecter expert, Mapp?"

"Seriously? Everyone knows I shared a duplex with Clarice Starling… we talked about him all the time."

"Yeah, where did that get her?" Pearsall mumbled.

"Do you work hard to be this huge an Asshole or does it come to you naturally?" Ardelia glared.

Bowman verbally stepped between them. "That's just stress talking, he meant no offense."

"Sorry, Mapp, I wasn't thinking- it's just the topic of Lecter makes me crazy."

"How do you think it makes me feel, Mr. Pearsall?"

"Point taken but thankfully, Hannibal Lecter is dead. Logan's shot was unbelievably accurate."

Bowman persisted. "But they never recovered his body…kind of leaves you with reasonable doubt."

Pearsall was adamant. "I don't care if they never found his body because I was there when the bullet ripped his ribcage open and tore into his wicked heart. I was there when his corpse sunk like a stone and I watched his worthless blood color the water redder than his devilish eyes."

The lead detective confirmed. "Mr. Pearsall is right. It definitely isn't Lecter…we have confirmed the killer is not a previously known offender."

Ardelia spoke first. "How did you confirm that?"

"We have DNA evidence."

"What kind of DNA evidence?" Bowman asked.

"There is a sexual component to his crimes. We constructed a DNA profile from semen samples taken from the bodies of the victims."

"So he's a serial rapist and a serial killer?" Ardelia questioned.

The second detective interjected. "Actually, the sexual crimes occurred post-mortem so he's not technically a rapist…he's a necrophiliac."

"Jesus…you've gotta be kidding." Ardelia made no effort to hide her disgust.

Pearsall passed another folder to the attendees. "Here are copies of letters claiming responsibility for the crimes."

"How'd we get these?" Bowman asked as he opened the folder and slid out the contents, pouring over the information before waiting for an answer.

"The Tattler received them. They called us and asked if they should run it or not. We asked them to sit on the material until we can get a better handle on this but we can't hold them back forever."

"That's not like the Tattler's editors to offer advance notification before printing." Ardelia offered.

Pearsall paced around the conference table. "Before the Tooth Fairy maybe but now none of their reporters want to end up like Freddie Lounds. We get the letters as soon as they get them."

"Why the hell are all these nuts so crazy about the Tattler?" Ardelia pushed through the papers, scanning them quickly. "These aren't just letters…this is a freaking manifesto and why the hell is Hannibal Lecter's name all over the place?"

"This one thinks he's the heir apparent. He signs all of the correspondence with the initials C.R.R."

Ardelia didn't get it. "What's the significance of that?"

Pearsall slapped a folder against his leg.

"Chesapeake Ripper Reincarnate."

**CLOSER...CLOSER**

Clarice busied herself around the house for a short time but soon felt a strong desire to be closer to Hannibal. She walked down the hallway and stood outside the massive oak door of the music room listening to his playing. Clarice wondered if he knew she was near.

Hannibal poured himself into the Czerny School of Velocity in an attempt to bring the injured hand up to technical speed with the right hand. Something caused him to stop playing.

Clarice smiled. _He knows._

She could imagine Hannibal, his maroon eyes sparkling, his head tilted to the side as he processed the information that flooded his senses.

His satin smooth baritone boomed effortlessly through the closed door. "Clarice?"

_How the hell does he do that?_

"My Love, I know that you are near."

She placed her palm against the door but did not open it. She whispered an apology. "I'm sorry, H. I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to listen for a bit. Go back to your playing."

"You need not apologize, Clarice. There are no locked doors between us. If you want to be with me you need only open the door and enter the room."

Clarice continued to speak through the closed door. "But…it's your private time, H."

"I spent eight years of my life in virtual solitude, Clarice. I have no need or desire for private time. A moment away from you is an eternity."

Clarice pushed through the door to see Hannibal sitting at the piano, patting his hand on the bench.

"Sit…please."

She crossed the room and sat on the bench with her back to the piano's keys, facing Hannibal.

Hannibal kissed the top of her head as she reached around his body and rested her head on his chest allowing the freedom of his arms to continue playing. He lowered his head, inhaled the scent of her shampoo, closed his eyes, and searched his memory for a new piece to play.

With Clarice holding him, Hannibal sought something less academic than the exercises he had been working on. Something decidedly more romantic was needed; Bach, the Goldberg Variations…the Aria. As he played, Clarice exhaled deeply and as her body melded against his own, Hannibal was content.

**BODY COUNT**

"Okay, wasn't that what the press called Lecter…the Chesapeake Ripper?" Ardelia was incredulous.

Pearsall nodded, still pacing around the table. "Yes it was, that's why this guy chose it. If you go through the papers and read his writing this guy's ego is huge. He's obsessed with beating Lecter's body count."

"How many did Lecter kill?" Bowman asked.

Pearsall wasn't sure. "Who knows in Europe and the Eastern Bloc countries…we had him convicted for nine- then he got the cops in Memphis and an ambulance crew, plus that tourist at the airport."

"Don't forget Chilton." Ardelia added.

Pearsall nodded. He was circling the table much like an aquarium shark circles within the tank. "Yeah, that idiot too, plus the Italian inspector, the Sardinian, Mason Verger, Paul Krendler…and don't forget poor Starling. Christ must be a minimum of what maybe nineteen that we know of, but Lecter didn't kill on a whim."

"Hannibal Lecter had a huge ego." Bowman offered.

Pearsall nodded. "Yes, but he wasn't driven by it. You had to threaten him or threaten someone he wanted to protect, like Starling. He wasn't random, not to mention that he had many years of inactivity so this guy will beat him easily. He's taken down at least one person per month."

The second officer chimed in. "He's already up to nine, almost halfway there."

"When did the letters start coming in?" Ardelia was starting a timeline on the back of her folder.

"First one came in after the sixth body was discovered. Now we get one every time another's found."

Bowman was writing in the margins of the case file. "It's unusual that he doesn't have a preferred method for body disposal. Some were weighted down in water like Buffalo Bill. Some buried, some left arranged in tableaus like the Tooth Fairy minus the mirrors…what's going on?"

The lead cop spoke as he opened his file. "You answered your own question. He's copying the methods of killers Lecter helped you catch; telling us that without Lecter we won't catch him. It's like…a dare."

Pearsall finally sat at the head of the table and opened his copy of the file. "So, he copies other killers but he hasn't copied Lecter. I don't think he has a taste for the blade. He drugs them while he has them and shoots them when he's through. The only thing he took from Lecter is the cannibalism if he's actually ingesting the meat. He carves sections from the bodies but we have no evidence of what he does with it. The gauntlet has been thrown. Let's hit him in the face with it."

**PROMISE**

Hannibal became aware of the passage of time when the sunlight filtering through the window began to soften and change color. He gently roused Clarice, sleeping soundly with her head on his lap.

"Wake up, Clarice... it's getting quite late."

"What…What time is it?"

"It is time for you to relax and enjoy a hot bath so that I may prepare our dinner."

"I'd rather stay with you." Clarice reached up for Hannibal. They kissed. At first, their touch was tender, tentative, but as their passions deepened, whispers of fingers across fabric became urgent tugs at pulls at buttons and zippers. Hannibal, still breathless from the contact forced himself away.

"If it were up to me, Clarice the taste of your lips on mine would be the only sustenance I would require this evening. I will however not jeopardize your health. Please, go now, while I am still able to exercise some small measure of self-control."

Clarice stood from beside Hannibal and trudged grudgingly crossed the room. "Okay, but you owe me, H. Promise?"

"I promise, my Love. I will ravage you until dawn."

Clarice opened the door and blew Hannibal a kiss before disappearing into the hallway.

Hannibal stood and closed the lid covering the piano keys. Next, he reached to switch off the light illuminating his sheet music but something gave him pause. His head tilted briefly to the side as he considered it, his eyes searching, his nostrils flaring. _Her scent…it's still unusually heavy in the air. Why?_

When the answer came to him Hannibal's maroon eyes sparkled with amusement."Clarice, would it please you if I pretended I did not know you were standing just outside the door, in the hallway, waiting to pounce upon my person as I egress?"

Clarice grasped the molding and poked her head playfully around the door frame. "So, I'm busted huh? The problem with you Hannibal Lecter is you need to get more fun out of life."

"Using my own words against me, Clarice? I'm surprised you remember that exchange."

"I remember everything you've ever said to me, H."

"And I remember everything that has passed between us as well." Hannibal opened his arms.

Clarice rushed into the room, jumped into his welcoming embrace and clasped her fingers around his neck, her legs around his waist. Hannibal placed his hands on her bottom to support her weight and walked with her out of the music room to their bedroom, whispering his plans in her ear the entire way.

"First, a massage, I think, followed by a shower… together of course. We will then dress and I will escort you to Dona Quela's for a romantic dinner. It's been quite some time since we last indulged and nothing would please me more than for the world to see my stunning wife by my side."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**L.H.**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER THREE- DINNER AND A SHOW**

Hannibal parked his BMW a short distance from the restaurant, walked around the car and opened the door for Clarice. As she exited, wearing a deeply cut, knee length blue-violet dress, collective heads turned. Her copper hair cascaded down the open back of the garment finishing just above the area Hannibal was accustomed to resting his hand; the curve of her bare back just as it reached her bottom.

Clarice took his hand and exited the car, brushing a kiss across his lips as she stepped on the curb. She straightened his tie, smiling when she realized that it exactly matched the hue of her dress; obviously his discreet way of publicly claiming her as his own.

"You are a goddess, my Love. With you on my arm, I am the envy of every man."

She rested her hand on his chest enjoying the strong thump of his heartbeat increase ever so slightly at the contact. She leaned into him, her body the full length of his and whispered in his ear, "H… there _are_ no other men."

He took her hand, kissed it spoke lovingly in return, "There never has been, nor will there will never be a woman equal to you in my eyes."

As they walked together to the restaurant Hannibal placed his hand again on the small of her back and stroked his thumb back and forth like a metronome enjoying the sensual shift of her muscles as her hips swayed to match his pace.

The host welcomed the couple and escorted them to the small round table Hannibal reserved. It was situated in an exceptionally quiet corner of the restaurant beneath a colorful painting Clarice favored of indigenous people wearing hats.

The area was secluded but afforded a panoramic view of the restaurant and a very clear view of the window and front door. Hannibal helped Clarice to her seat, leaving her back to the door but allowing full view of her favorite painting. Ever vigilant he took the seat in full view of everything else.

The waiter approached. "Doctor Dante. Would you like to begin your meal with a glass of wine or a cocktail? I can provide you with our wine list." He offered the list of libations.

Hannibal lifted a hand in refusal paused as he called to mind the exact image of the wine list he had seen on their last visit. "Yes, wine… a Malbec…Catena Zapeta."

"Certainly, do you have a preferred vintage?"

"I believe I recall the two thousand-five on the menu, the full bottle and two glasses, please."

"Yes, of course."

The waiter handed returned with the menus and withdrew discreetly, sporting the smile of a man who realized that if the service was exceptional and the couple enjoyed their meal in privacy, the tip would be large.

Clarice understood the waiter's smile meant this was probably not a ten dollar bottle of wine. She tapped Hannibal's hand to get his attention. Her voice had a hint of playfulness, "Okay, fess up, Handsome…how much for the Malbec, whatever that is?"

Hannibal reviewed the menu as he spoke, "It is an Argentinian wine, listed at one hundred thirty five dollars per bottle. It is not what I am accustomed to, more a compromise for your sake as I am doing my best to be mindful of your feelings."

Clarice smiled at his presumed thoughtfulness, "I'm curious, H. What feelings are you being mindful of?"

Hannibal set the menu down, folded his hands and calmly addressed Clarice's question, "You abhor frivolous spending, thus I'm attempting to be more conservative in that vein. Understand however that while I'm willing to make adjustments, I patently refuse to drink wine dispensed from a plastic bladder tucked within a cardboard box!"

Nodding in appreciation of his efforts Clarice responded, "It's much more reasonable than the seven hundred dollar a bottle Montrachet you had served at the wedding."

"The wine of which you speak of had been served exclusively to our private guests at the head table. The local guests were served a respectable but far less discerning 2009 Bzikot Puligny Montrachet Folatieres costing just below one hundred dollars a bottle. Do keep in mind it was our wedding day Clarice, marking the beginning of our lives together. In future, out of respect for your wishes I'll not repeat that level of ostentation."

Clarice covered his folded hands with hers. She squeezed his hands gently, "Well, I just want you to know that I recognize and appreciate that you're making an effort."

Hannibal turned his hands over to hold hers. "One tries, my Love."

The waiter returned with the bottle and poured a sample for Hannibal's approval.

Hannibal reluctantly released his wife's hand, took the glass by the stem and swirled the wine very quickly, coating the sides of the glass and releasing the aroma. He bowed his elegant head until his nose dipped within the glass, closed his eyes and took several quick and successively deeper inhalations. Satisfied, Hannibal drew the wine into his mouth and worked it over his tongue, allowing it to seep to the back of his throat so the aromas would ascend to his nasal passages.

The waiter did not speak until Hannibal opened his eyes and looked in his direction. Understanding that Hannibal's eye contact gave him permission to speak the waiter questioned, "Does it meet with your satisfaction, Sir?"

Hannibal nodded and added his affirmation, "Yes, thank you. If you would do me the favor, please, first serve my lovely wife."

The waiter bowed slightly at the waist, "Of course, Doctor, as you wish."

The waiter poured for Clarice, filled Hannibal's glass and placed the bottle on the table. "Are you prepared to place your order?"

"Yes, thank you, if you would excuse me." Hannibal turned from the waiter and leaned to Clarice. "Would you enjoy beef, lamb, fish, deer or boar tonight, Clarice?"

"I've been as close to any boar as I will ever want to be so let's just settle on beef tonight."

He smiled at her reference to Verger's pen. "What of soup, my Love?"

"You're the culinary expert, H. Order for me…I trust you."

"Thank you for your confidence, Clarice."

Hannibal turned to the waiter, prepared.

"We will begin our meal with sopa crema de papa y puerro, followed by insalata…patagonian. For the main course, the lady will have bife de chorizo con pure' de batata, I will also have the pure' de batata though I would prefer the arrollado de cordero con hongos y salsa de miel to the chorizo."

Pleased with his choices, Hannibal handed the menus to the waiter who quickly removed himself.

"So, what am I eating?" Clarice asked excitedly.

"You are having a creamy potato and leek soup, followed by an arugula salad with bleu cheese and walnuts. Your entrée is freshly made beef sausage with mashed sweet potatoes."

"That sounds wonderful! What are you having?"

"Exactly the same, however my entrée is not beef. I have chosen coiled lamb with mushrooms."

"Really? _Lamb,_ H?

"It isn't as if it's _your_ lamb, Clarice."

"Very funny!"

The couple's playful exchange was interrupted as a large and obviously inebriated man blasted through the front door and loudly announced his presence.

"Table for one and make it good…not near the crapper or the kitchen door or anything!"

Clarice made no effort to hide her disgust when she heard the man's southern drawl. "Jesus, the uncouth bastard would have to be an American! No wonder half the world hates us."

Hannibal didn't speak. He glared at the man as if willing him to silence.

The portly man saw Hannibal staring and boomed at Lecter. "What are you looking at, Nancy?"

"Nancy?" Hannibal was confused and checked with Clarice for understanding. She translated.

"He just made a reference to your sexuality but he was _way_ off!"

Hannibal's red eyes flashed through his blue contacts, giving the masked irises an eerie purple glow.

Clarice steadied his hand, now drawn into a fist. She pried opened his tightly balled hand and laced her fingers between his, gently holding his hand. Her loving contact relaxed him immediately.

"Come on, H. We don't want our dinner ruined by the likes of Fat Bastard."

Hannibal often watched movies of her choosing and laughed heartily at the Austin Powers reference.

"Get in my belly!" Hannibal mimicked in the character's brogue.

Clarice laughed so hard she almost spit a mouthful of wine across the table. "That's why I love you, H. If anyone knew how silly you are…"

"I love and treasure you as well, Clarice."

The waiter delivered the soup to their table. Hannibal dipped his spoon and ladled it away from his body. As he placed the spoon in his mouth, he concentrated on the warm, smooth texture and taste. The Doctor placed his thoughts far away from the oaf now seated two tables away from their own.

Clarice and Hannibal settled into their meal as the loud man in near proximity reviewed the menu.

The waiter, a very articulate young man proficient in several languages, was attempting to pacify Fat Bastard by patiently translating the menu. Though his English was quite good and his accent not at all detracting from the translation, the man insisted that the waiter repeat himself several times.

Hannibal's patience was growing thin. Other patrons in the restaurant whispered, obviously disturbed by the man's presence as well. Hannibal shifted his focus to pouring himself his third, or was it his fourth full glass of wine?

"Jesus Christ, don't any of y'all speak any goddamned English? I don't do Mexican." The boor boomed causing the waiter to retreat.

"Mexican?" Hannibal's patience was now at an end. He gulped back the wine, set down the glass, forcefully shoved his chair backward along the floor and stood.

Clarice reached for him, realizing he had a lot to drink and not knowing how he would react to the alcohol in his system. Terrified, she whispered. "H…Where's your Harpy?"

Although he heard her very clearly, Hannibal was shocked that it was even a thought. "Pardon me?"

"Stop..." She whispered her plea.

"Clarice, there is no need to be afraid. You must know that I would never endanger you."

He reached for her cheek and stroked the back of his hand against her soft skin. It pained him to see the worry in her eyes and he sought to console her. "You have nothing to worry about, my Love. I was merely going to assist in the translation."

"He's obviously Southern, H. I speak his language, you don't. I'll assist him. You go on ahead and enjoy your soup."

Clarice walked over to the table in a friendly manner. Hannibal could not hear the exact exchange, but noticed that Clarice amped up her accent and it was obvious that the large man was quite taken with her. She waved the waiter over and helped him order his meal. He chose the beef sausage, fried potatoes, no vegetables and a cheap red wine. Moments later, she returned to Hannibal's side, smiling widely.

"It's a good thing they had sausage. He wasn't too thrilled to hear about their trout ravioli."

Hannibal and Clarice enjoyed the rest of their meal in relative peace. If the man became loud, Clarice would smile at him and tamp her hand downward, a friendly signal for him to lower his tone. The man blushed each and every time she looked in his direction. Seeing the oaf's obvious physical interest in Clarice, fueled by an excess of wine and being exceedingly territorial by nature, Hannibal was seething.

The waiter delivered the bill and Clarice watched intently as Hannibal paid the tab. He was very discreet as he handled the financial exchange, frustrating Clarice. She was trying to figure out how much he tipped because in the past, as soon as any waiter checked his payment, they would invariably return to the table and practically genuflect. This waiter was no different, returning to Hannibal, shaking his hand and bowing graciously.

As the waiter retreated, Clarice teased. "Hey, Don Corleone… I thought he was going to kiss your ring."

"I tip well, Clarice. A gratuity is not only a recognition of fine food and service on the night, but to insure that one will be well attended to on future visits. The young man was merely showing his appreciation."

Hannibal stood, moved Clarice's chair back and extended his hand, leading her to stand. He then placed his free hand on her lower back and guided her gently in the direction of the door.

As Clarice and Hannibal passed Fat Bastard's table, the fool reached out and grasped Clarice by the wrist. "Hey pretty lady, you sure you don't want to stay a while. I could buy you a couple of drinks and maybe offer you a little _dessert_. I'm sure Nancy here won't mind."

Hannibal attempted to move forward but Clarice stepped in front of him and placed her hand on the center of his chest, symbolically holding him back. She yanked her other hand from the man's grasp.

"Sorry to disappoint but my husband and I have plans this evening. Enjoy your meal and your vacation and have a safe trip back to the States." She reached for Hannibal. "Come on H. Let's go."

"Husband… Nancy? Y'all are pullin' my leg! Fancy boy here ain't into _women_."

Hannibal reached for Clarice, grasped her by the wrist and elbow controlling her movement and very gently, but with conviction, moved her to his right side. He extended his hand to the man.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Doctor Marco Aurelio Dante, and may I present my wife, Clarice Dante."

The portly man ignored the gesture. Hannibal withdrew his hand.

"If Marco's your name, why does she call you H? Can't y'all spell?"

"The use of the initial 'H' does not represent my name, but rather an affectionate appellation to denote our familial connection. It is my wife's recognition of my loving and devoted status as Husband."

Clarice was thankful Hannibal was quick on his feet and had been able to cover her mistake so quickly.

The man craned his neck to look past Hannibal and address Clarice directly. "Hey, Gorgeous… It's cuz he's rich, right? Don't tell me you actually _want_ to sleep with him!"

Clarice moved forward, leaving Hannibal's side and poked the oaf in the chest.

"I _more_ than want him…and believe me, in _his_ bed, I get very little sleep. If you could provide a woman one tenth the satisfaction my husband gives me you wouldn't be sitting in a foreign country all by your lonesome stuffing your fat face with sausages."

Still enraged at the indignity with which the man addressed her husband, Clarice stepped behind Hannibal, her assent that he could now handle the situation as he saw fit.

"I'm through protecting this idiot…He's all yours, H."

The fat man stood. "Yeah…I'm all yours H."

Hannibal removed his jacket and pushed his shirt sleeves up. He moved in an intensely threatening manner and squared off with the much larger man. Instead of the expected physical confrontation, Hannibal again extended his hand and winked a challenge.

The larger man hesitated, but soon understood Hannibal's defiant invitation and grasped his hand using what he believed represented a firm and impressive grip.

Hannibal was amused by the man's confidence and smiled knowingly. Lecter's hand was quite large for a man his size and unusually strong- a virtual vise forged from decades of intense training on the piano. He continually applied pressure and soon the smooth tension escalated to a crushing assault.

The wait staff had gathered, forming a wall of sorts, separating the conflict from the rest of the guests but content to let Hannibal handle the unruly guest. Clarice and Hannibal's waiter watched and listened intently, excitedly translating for the other workers.

Hannibal spoke softly so as not to disturb the other diners, as he continued to collapse the man's hand. "I assure you, my corpulent friend, that while I am indeed heterosexual, the only person to whom I feel the need to demonstrate that fact is my wife, and I promise you, I make it a point to prove it to her several times a day- _every_ day. Now, if you continue with your rudeness in her company, I will take great offense. I would appreciate if you would extend to her, an apology for your graceless behavior. Be assured I will not make this request a second time."

By now, the man's hand turned white, his fingers grinding into each other as Hannibal rolled his grip to manipulate the metacarpal bones, exacerbating the man's agony. Bone now crunched against bone and forced almost to his knees and sweating profusely the fat man folded into his chair, his body and spirit crushed under Hannibal's merciless grip.

"Sir…My wife awaits your apology and my patience is growing thin."

The man spoke contritely. "I'm sorry, Ma'am…I meant no disrespect to you or your husband."

"Thanks, apology accepted." Clarice nodded to Hannibal. He released his grip.

The staff quietly clapped their hands in obvious appreciation for Hannibal's show of force.

Seeing he had an audience, Hannibal waved to the amused waiter who quickly shoved something in his pocket. Lecter turned his attention to his foe.

"If you will, allow me the honor of providing for your dinner this evening." He reached into his breast pocket, opened his wallet and handed the waiter a one hundred peso note, knowing from the dinner and the cheap wine Fat Bastard ordered that it would more than cover the check and a large gratuity. The waiter accepted and smiled graciously. When he returned to his friends, the waiter again reached into his pocket.

Hannibal placed his arm around Clarice. "Come, I promised you chocolates."

"You promised me more than that, Husband."

"Pardon, my Love?"

Clarice, still fuming at the insinuations directed at Hannibal's sexuality, believed it her role to defend him. She glared at the offender then shifted her attention to her husband. Seeking shock value, Clarice seductively grasped Hannibal's hips, pulled him against her and leaned provocatively into his body.

"You promised, H…remember…until dawn!"

Though not a man normally given to public displays of affection, Hannibal's legendary self-control had been drowned by copious amounts of alcohol, thus Nature firmly overruled Reason. He crushed his body against hers as animalistic urges and primal instincts took control. He growled his pleasure, his lips taking hers as he passionately, rather indiscreetly and very, very publically claimed his wife as his own.

Moments later an unabashed Hannibal released his wife, kissed her softly on the cheek, and smoothed an errant curl away from her flushed face. He then took a deep breath, straightened his tie, put his jacket on and allowed himself a moment to regain his composure.

"Give me the keys, H. You've had a bit to drink tonight so I'll drive the Beemer."

"Anything you wish, my Love." He handed her the car keys and smiled.

Before leaving, Hannibal Lecter addressed the boorish man, his hand in pain and his mouth still agape.

"If you will please excuse me, as you can see, my wife desires my attention. Being forever the dutiful husband, her needs must be fulfilled before my own…anything less would be ungentlemanly."

Satisfied as any male animal would be when his territory had been successfully marked, Hannibal put his arms around his Clarice, waved a goodbye to the staff and excused himself. The pair left the restaurant aware of the pleasantly bemused smiles on the faces of everyone inside, save one less than amused and rather impolite Southerner.

Neither Hannibal, nor Clarice noticed the waiter had captured most of the incident on his cell phone.

**LOGAN'S BUDDY**

Logan Marley and Ardelia Mapp had been seeing each other for three months. He was fun and Ardelia had gotten tired of aggressive idiot juice heads like Gym Boy. Plus, he was pretty and Ardelia loved pretty boys. The pair met up after their shifts to work out at Quantico's gym.

"Hey, Dee, heard from your girl recently?" Logan asked as he trotted on a treadmill beside her.

"Logan, not here- and no, but I wasn't expecting to, not for at least another month. I swear you are worse than any woman I know. How many times do I have to tell you…we only discuss this at home! It's a good thing you're so damn good in bed cuz you got no kind of sense in that pretty head of yours."

"Sorry I was just wondering what they're up to. It's been a while."

"They are living their life, Logan…quietly… so let's try to help them out with that, huh?"

"Yeah, okay just keep me posted if you hear anything. I'd love to know how my buddy's doing."

"Your buddy is doing fine so let it go."

Bowman caught the last part of their exchange as he entered the gym. Smiling, he hopped on a bike. "So, who's your buddy, Logan?"

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	3. Chapter 3

Welcome back! You've been here before so you know the drill but let's get it out of the way shall we:

**I own only the machinations of my own twisted imagination. The characters belong to Thomas Harris. I merely take them out to play on occasion!**

**THE DRIVER'S SEAT**

Nightfall came quickly to Virginia this time of year. Autumn leaves blow across the darkened paths swirling on the early November winds. The campus, usually busy with activity, is quiet. It is mid-term and diligent students are holed up in their dorms or congregated in large groups at the library. One young lady is braving the dark, cold night through no fault of her own. The library study rooms were all filled to capacity. She was forced to return to her residence, alone.

The university provided students with security escorts but there would be a fifty minute wait. Too much precious study time to lose. The petite girl decided to chance it on her own. She should not have.

"Hi Steph, sorry I missed you but they wouldn't let anyone else in the library, fire hazard. Okay, I'm going back to my apartment…so just give me a call when you get this message. Catch you later."

The girl pocketed her cell phone, unaware she was being watched from the tree line.

She took the shortcut down a path the students called The Rape Trail, because of its ominous Blair Witch appearance and dubious usage in the past. She was only ten minutes from her apartment.

It was only one minute to his van.

**CUTTING IT CLOSE**

Clarice raced the BMW down the road leading to their compound. She missed her Mustang and as much as she loved to, and though Hannibal clearly didn't mind, it wasn't often Clarice asked if she could drive.

"Clarice, be mindful there is a wide variety of wild and domestic animal life in the area. I wouldn't want you to wrap us around a tree trying to avoid one of your lambs."

"Shut up, H. I'm having fun!"

Clarice punched the remote that activated their security gate, but made no move to reduce the speed of the car. The heavy metal gate swung open slowly, leaving barely room enough for the car to clear the entrance. As soon as the car passed through the opening, she hit the button again and the gate closed as if it were pushing the car down the driveway.

Hannibal's eyes never shifted, his calm demeanor remained static. "Cutting it a little close are we, My Love?"

"H…" she teased a warning.

"I know…shut up."

"Exactly."

Judging a spot on the driveway where she planned to position the car, and wanting, just a little, to jolt her husband, Clarice slammed on the brakes and pulled quickly at the wheel. The car entered a controlled spin, skidded across the gravel driveway and drifted perfectly into Hannibal's parking spot.

"That was quite an impressive bit of driving Ex-Special Agent Starling. If we are ever forced to run…you may take the wheel."

Clarice turned off the car, twisted the keys from the ignition and tossed them to Hannibal. He snatched them from the air with the quick snap of his wrist.

As she moved to open her door Hannibal raised a hand to stop her.

"While I am happy to have you race about whenever the mood strikes you Clarice, I'll not have you exit the vehicle like a NASCAR driver."

Hannibal quickly moved from his side of the car, opened his lady's door and led her from the vehicle.

"You are forever a gentleman H."

"Yes Clarice, for you...Forever."

Clarice walked ahead of Hannibal and turned the lights in each of the rooms they entered.

She then marched to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and stared blankly into the appliance, more out of boredom than hunger. As she searched its contents, a thought was triggered.

"It'll be Thanksgiving soon, H. Can we get everything we need for a proper turkey dinner?"

"Actually, I hadn't given that a thought. It would depend on what you would have me prepare."

"Of course we'll need the turkey, stuffing, cornbread, we can't forget cranberry sauce, and gravy…biscuits…mashed potatoes, maybe some squash, yams, chestnuts…pumpkin pie, apple pie…you know…the works! Do you need to make a list?" She peeked inside and pushed the items around.

"No, if you tell me what you want me to purchase… I will remember."

"Yeah, I forget about that photographic memory of yours…comes in handy." The door remained open.

"Not photographic…eidetic, which is slightly different but sufficient to remember your grocery list."

"Okay, I stand corrected. Don't forget to add what you want. What do you have on Thanksgiving?"

Hannibal walked over, closed the refrigerator and beginning at his wife's shoulders continued to run his hands up and down, tracing his fingertips along her arms. "Thanksgiving is a family holiday, Clarice. This will be the first time I have had cause to celebrate."

"Oh, God that was really stupid of me…I'm so sorry, H."

Hannibal lowered his head, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered to her gently. "Please…no apologies, Clarice. You are the only reason I have _ever_ had to give thanks."

Clarice's heart ached. "The things I say…I shouldn't assume…"

With a finger, Hannibal lifted her chin and touched a light kiss briefly to her lips.

"Please know that nothing you have ever said or will ever say is hurtful to me."

"Why?"

"Because Clarice, when I am with you…I know that I am loved."

Clarice draped her arms behind her husband's head and placed kisses against the warm skin on his neck.

"I do love you, H. More than you will ever know."

Hannibal lifted Clarice with a smile and carried her to their bedroom.

"It is time for me to fulfill my promise to you."

"Now… Hannibal?"

"Yes, my Love… now until dawn."

**See the review button? Be a Dear and click on that little old rascal and I won't take up anymore of your time. **

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**L.H.**


	4. Chapter 4

**THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A BOY AND A MAN**

The restaurant was buzzing when the couple left. The waiter was busy in the kitchen, showing the cooks the video of Hannibal crushing the huge man's hand.

The young man was jumping around pointing to the image on the phone.

"Watch the fat man's face, I got a good close-up…he was squeezing until that man's hand was crushed. The Doctor doesn't look as strong as he is. The man could not stand the pain."

The cooks were impressed, nodding to each other and laughing at the fat man's contorted features.

"Wait until you see the next part. Wait until you see him take his wife! He looks like such an elegant man…like a quiet professional but he's wild…you'll be so shocked!"

"Who is going to take his wife?" One of the chefs asked as he leaned over the stove to see the video.

"The Doctor will…wait until you see this. You won't believe it…they don't look like they belong together but they really love each other. It is crazy how they can't keep their hands off each other!"

The male cooks all moan collectively as, in the video Clarice grabs Hannibal and grinds against him.

"He's a lucky man, yes? Watch…here it comes!" The waiter previews, obviously excited for their reactions.

The workers are watching intently, their curiosity obvious as they stare unblinking at the tiny screen of the cell phone. When, in the video, Hannibal moves quickly to Clarice, their passion documented for posterity, the cooks and kitchen staff cheer loudly.

"Oh, My God, do you see what I mean…he's pure animal… he takes her like a lion!" The waiter impresses as he replays the video.

"They are crazy for each other. When they come into the restaurant, they can't keep their hands off each other."

An older man enters the kitchen. He is disturbed by the noise coming from the workers.

"Lower your voices it is much too loud and you are disturbing the dinner guests." He noticed his son, Hannibal's waiter, in the center of the activity.

"Francisco? What are you doing? You have tables to serve."

The kitchen staff, obviously terrified of the older man's wrath, scattered like rats from a sinking ship.

"Sorry Papa, I was just showing off the video I took. I didn't mean to get everyone so worked up. We'll be quiet you can go back to the dining room. I'll be there in a minute." He obviously didn't want to show his father the images on the phone.

"What video?" The father was obviously displeased. "Who is in this video?"

"The video is of the Doctor and his wife...and the loud fat man."

Judging from the expression on his father's face, the young man knew he was in trouble.

"I was just having a little fun."

"It is not fun if it is at another man's expense. You took this video of the Doctor and his wife… tonight? With what did you take this video?"

"With my cell phone when Doctor Dante hurt that fat man and then when he kissed his wife."

"Show me this video."

Francisco played the video. The precise moment the older man finished watching, he grabbed the phone from the young waiter's hands and swinging his large palm, slapped his son across the back of the head.

Embarrassed, the young man quickly lowered his eyes and stared at the floor.

"This is how you treat our guests! Especially a guest that helped us with a problem and who is now our neighbor? This is not how you were raised. All your education and this is what entertains you? I am ashamed of your behavior and as my son, I expect much better."

The older man pocketed the cell phone and folded his arms across his chest, shielding the pocket where he placed the piece of offensive technology.

The young man was mortified that he had so thoroughly disappointed his father. "I'm sorry, Papa."

"Tomorrow you and I will go to see the Doctor and you will apologize to him."

"Okay…but what about my phone?"

"You have shown you that cannot be trusted with it. Until you again earn trust, you will have no phone."

"I don't want to go…I'm afraid he's going to be angry."

"You are willing to take large sums of money when you serve this man because you feel you have earned it, but you are not willing to accept anger you have also earned? If he is angry with you, he is entitled to express it and you will accept his anger like a man, with dignity and grace. The guilt is yours."

"I know…it was stupid but he doesn't know about it…why can't I just erase it?"

"It is because the consequences must be yours. Accepting the result of your actions, no matter how difficult is the difference between a boy and a man. Taking that video was the action of a boy. Apologizing is the action of a man. Francisco, you are an intelligent person, you may decide. Tell me, will you ask me to erase it or will you apologize. Have I raised a man or are you still a small boy?"

"I'm a man, Papa. I'll apologize."

The father patted a consoling hand on his son's shoulder. "It is what's right."

The young man was not comforted.

**HANNIBAL AND CLARICE: UNTIL DAWN**

The offending morning sun beamed brightly as the couple once again collapsed into each other's arms. Hannibal groaned in pain and raised a hand as the light invaded his vision, his red irises far more sensitive than most to the intensity of the sun's rays. Clarice, seeing his obvious discomfort, quickly reached for the remote to bring the privacy shades down between the panes of glass.

Hannibal sighed as he welcomed the coming darkness. "Thank you, my Love."

"No, thank _you_, H." she flirted, trailing a fingertip down his sternum between his pectoral muscles.

Hannibal smiled and rolled onto his side, his eyes closing slowly as his body sought sleep.

Clarice moved to face him, running her hands up and down the length of his body, massaging him.

"Mmmmmm." Hannibal hummed his pleasure and stretched his body, fully relaxing his muscles.

She kissed his stomach, teasing small bites near his navel.

Hannibal was exhausted. "Rest now, Clarice…rest."

"Had your fill of me, huh?" There was obvious disappointment in her tone.

"I shall never have my fill of you, my Love, but it would be prudent for me to sleep for a bit before resuming. I'm not as young as once I was."

"You're only as old as you feel and last night, you felt pretty good to me. Have one more in you?"

"If I've not satisfied you as of yet, Clarice…perhaps I am losing my touch."

"Last night was heaven, H… you haven't lost your touch…" She traced a seductive finger over his lips. "And, actually I wasn't talking about you satisfying me, which you did…numerous times. I was talking about me satisfying you."

"I am more than satisfied, Clarice."

"Not like this!" Clarice placed a flat palm on Hannibal's shoulder and pushed gently, directing him onto his back. Kissing his closed eyes she whispered in his ear. "Hannibal…do you trust me?"

Hannibal opened his eyes and raised a questioning brow. "Do I trust you? What do you mean?"

She began to trail a series of soft kisses down his abdomen. His mind processed the stimuli.

_Not unusual._

She continued to move down his body. Hannibal shifted nervously. This was unusual, _highly_ unusual.

_Why didn't she stop… she always stops._

Hannibal considered her, his head slightly inclined as he processed the situation. He had no answer.

"Clarice?"

"You always give to me…Let me give to you." She lowered her head to him.

Clarice had no problem receiving the particular pleasure she alluded to from Hannibal. While she never openly stated distaste for the act, she seemed to shy from it, therefore, Hannibal would not ask.

"Clarice?" Again, he sought some confirmation of her intention.

She ignored him and concentrated on his body as she trailed her kisses lower still. She traced tender kisses along his hip to the hollow curve of his pelvis.

Hannibal's breath was becoming shallow and uneven as she took him in her hand, encouraging him to respond. Though exhausted, his body would not betray, recapturing the vigor of their first coupling the evening prior. As she brushed her lips against him, Hannibal reached for her shoulders, his heart racing, he gasped between strained respirations.

"Clarice…you… don't have to…"

She paused and lightly touched a finger to his lips. "Love is giving _and_ receiving… learn to trust me...let me give to you. Accept, H."

Hannibal pulled in a long breath and held it.

Clarice drew him in.

Taking a moment to relax into the contact, Hannibal slowly released the withdrawn breath in a prolonged, deep sigh.

As Clarice moved slowly over him, Hannibal watched her intently. He was captivated by her hair, swinging like a pendulum, sweeping back and forth brushing along his hip and thigh.

Hannibal's inexperience with the emotional aspects of sex complicated the experience for him. The contact, not unfamiliar to him, was much more intense than expected. He closed his eyes to reduce the stimuli. His vocalizations were deep and raw; the low rasping sounds rolling from his throat encouraged Clarice.

She repeated the movements that elicited the sounds, driving his arousal.

Hannibal matched the rhythm of her movements, enhancing his pleasure without escalating aggression. He was careful to allow Clarice full control.

Soft, sweet sounds hummed from Clarice as she enjoyed the scent, the texture and the taste of his body. The sensual sounds his lover made urged him, driving Hannibal's passion. His body ached, the fire burning low in his abdomen.

"Soon…Clarice…you need to stop...soon..." He wanted her to know that his end was near, a courtesy he offered when such a pleasure was afforded him. Every woman he had in this way heeded and appreciated the gesture.

Hannibal reached for her shoulders again.

"Clarice, stop."

She shook her head negatively and held him. Slow movements escalated almost imperceptibly until the increased speed drove Hannibal to the edges of his ecstasy.

Again he reached for her.

"Clarice… Please… Clarice…"

Again she refused and clutched his body.

Not wanting to be disrespectful, Hannibal's body shuddered violently as he tried desperately to stay his release. His heart pounded as if exploding from his chest, now breathless, he pleaded.

"Please...stop…I… can't…"

Clarice would not relent, nor did she release her hold on him. His flesh was immolating from the heat, his nerve endings searing, a collision of pleasure and pain.

Ignoring the instinct to reach for her and drive toward his end, Hannibal pulled at the bedclothes, arched his back and twisting fabric in his fists, fought off the approaching apogee. When he could hold himself no longer, Hannibal Lecter, his body shuddering violently, wracked in spasm, his mind swimming, found a single moment of clarity. He understood what she wanted.

…_trust me...let me give to you. Accept, H._

_Trust…Accept…Love..._

Hannibal Lecter surrendered himself to Clarice.

Clarice accepted his release, holding him until the contractions of his body ceased. Finally, as his rapture waned, Clarice joined him by his side.

Cradling Clarice's body against his own, Hannibal wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him tightly.

"I have never experienced anything even close to that before today."

"I know that wasn't your first...you know… I've been online remember?"

"It was my first to completion, Clarice. Most women not only request it but actually do heed the warning."

"I'm not most women, H."

He stroked her hair and nuzzled her neck. "That is a fact of which I am eternally grateful."

She smiled. "Rest now, Hannibal…rest."

Hannibal and Clarice were unwilling to separate, their bodies intertwined, his bicep her pillow. His chin resting on her shoulder, his lover comforted by his warm breath at her neck. Finally, sleep finds them.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	5. Chapter 5

**ANOTHER MISSING PERSON**

Pearsall was frustrated.

"All we know is she's a student and was picked up in Virginia. We are assuming that he grabbed her in a wooded area on the edge of the campus."

Ardelia was listening intently, scribbling notes on a pad. "Why are we assuming that?"

Pearsall tapped a pen on a cardboard box in front of him. "That's where they found her belongings."

"Was there any evidence of a struggle?"

"No, there was no evidence of any struggle so he must have surprised her."

"Do we have an I.D. on the girl yet?" Bowman asked.

"No, her wallet wasn't with the book bag. No cell phone either. So we are relying on the school for that. There are four girls currently unaccounted for on campus. We need to determine who went home for the weekend and who is really missing. We're waiting for follow-up while the local cops go to the dorms."

Bowman reached in and pulled items out of the large box. "Is this all of it?" He questioned as he focused on the physical evidence.

Pearsall nodded. "That's all the items that belonged to the girl. We have one that belonged to the abductor… another letter."

"Where is the letter?" Ardelia asked, knowing it would not be in the box.

"Document analysis has it. They're doing handwriting comparisons."

Bowman spread the items across the conference table. "No help here, just typical college kid stuff. What about trace evidence on the letter?"

"There were no prints or fibers. Paper was common stock so no help there."

"Where did he leave it? Was there an envelope?" Ardelia searched. "We could get DNA if he licked it."

"No such luck. The letter was carefully placed in one of her school books."

This roused Bowman's interest. "Really? What book?"

"I don't think the book was important, but if it helps you it was the music history book."

"Do you have a copy of the letter?" Bowman requested.

Pearsall dug through the file pulled out a piece of paper and passed it across the table.

Bowman read aloud.

"And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright;

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine…

It's signed C.R.R."

"Okay…I'll bite. Do we have any clue what it means?"

Bowman wore the smile of a man quite pleased with himself. "It's a pretty obscure reference…William Blake- a poem called Poison Tree, the music book he left it in _was_ a hint…It's from Blake's Songs of Experience."

"Implications?" Pearsall asked.

"Based on the poem and this guy's past…it won't end well for the girl."

"Why do you say that?" Ardelia asked.

"It's about a murder…someone who kills because of unspoken anger."

"Wasn't the Tooth Fairy obsessed with Blake?" Ardelia asked.

Bowman looked through the music book. "Not Blake himself, he was obsessed with the image Blake painted, specifically The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun. He was really obsessed with Lecter."

Ardelia copied the poem and every detail Bowman was offering into her notes. "So…the image…the Great Red Dragon…that's the one he went to Brooklyn and ate?"

Pearsall nodded a confirmation. "Yeah, that's the one he ate."

"Actually there are four Blake paintings featuring the Dragon. He ate The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun. I don't remember the names of the others." Bowman volunteered.

"Well, aren't we just a wealth of information." Ardelia mused.

Bowman's voice rose with excitement. "What about Will Graham? He broke the Tooth Fairy case. If this guy is referencing Blake we might be able to get a handle on it through him.

Pearsall dismissed the idea out of turn. "No, he was loyal to Jack Crawford- with him gone we'd have no shot at Graham. Not to mention that his wife would never let him help on this or any other case. Don't forget when Graham went down she had to take Dolarhyde out herself."

Ardelia dismissed the idea. "Not to mention that Graham would have never broken that case or the Hobbs case for that matter without Lecter."

Lloyd was frustrated they had such limited options. "That's why Crawford sent Clarice to see him. They were stuck on Buffalo Bill. They needed what Lecter had that… extra sense… that…intuition."

"That insanity." Pearsall added.

Bowman shook his head. "Maybe but I'd kill to pick his brain!"

"He would've killed to pick your brain, too but I don't think you'd enjoy it much!" Pearsall mumbled.

Ardelia found Pearsall's Lecter references childish and irritating. "Yeah well whether we like it or not and for whatever reason, Lecter helped us whenever we needed him and because of that we saved a lot of lives."

"Why are we discussing Lecter? It isn't as if we can run down to the Baltimore State Forensic Hospital offer him some fava beans and whisper to the lunatic through the glass. We're on our own people so let's stop crying about it and get on with this!"

Pearsall's cell phone went off. He answered it, rolled his eyes and gestured that the pair could leave.

Ardelia and Bowman gathered up the evidence and Lloyd carried it out of the room.

Lloyd whispered to Ardelia as they walked together down the hall. "It really goads him to talk about Lecter doesn't it?"

"Yeah, he gets like a freaking five year old having a tantrum, like he has an inferiority complex or something. It's kind of irrational if you ask me. Why be jealous of a dead guy, you know?"

"I don't think he's jealous of Lecter…this is going to sound stupid being that he watched Lecter die, but… do you want to know what I really think?"

"Yeah...what do you really think

"He's afraid of him."

**THE MORNING AFTER**

Clarice and Hannibal slept well into the next day. Clarice stirred first and checked the clock, afraid to raise the privacy shades and disturb Hannibal. When she saw it was well past two o'clock in the afternoon, she roused her husband.

"H, it's almost two-thirty. You have to get up and eat something."

Hannibal rolled onto his stomach and pulled a pillow tightly over the back of his head. "I'm not hungry…another hour."

She crawled across the bed, kneeling beside him, her knees touching his side.

"Last chance, H. Out of bed before I bounce you out!"

"Not moving. Sorry."

She placed her palms on his back and began to bounce up and down on the mattress, forcing his body into the pillow top. She then released the pressure, allowing the mattress to recoil and propel his body upward. Clarice bounced him up and down several times, ignoring his groans of displeasure.

"I'm going to bounce you until you get up."

"I think I'd enjoy this much more if I were on my back instead of my stomach" He teased, referring to their present state of undress.

"I dare you!" she goaded, stretching her body over him in an attempt to prevent him from flipping over.

Hannibal bucked his hips providing enough separation from Clarice to free his arm and leg and quickly flip over. Hannibal was now on his back but content to remain under Clarice.

Hannibal smiled as he regarded his wife's form. "Yes, I am quite enjoying this view."

Clarice flipped a leg over him. "So you can roll over…any four month old can do that."

"What are you insinuating?"

"Only that if I don't want you to get up…you won't be able to get up."

"Clarice, you are forgetting as I already informed you, I do not want to get up. Most especially now that you have so graciously provided me with this magnificent view."

"You're only saying that because you don't want to be embarrassed."

Hannibal, with one cat-like move, swept his hip upward, swung his leg over, and created enough momentum to flip Clarice unceremoniously onto her back. Victorious, he assumed a full mount position.

"You were saying, Clarice?"

Now firmly on top, he flattened his body against her, pinning her to the mattress. She squealed as he pinned her arms over her head. Playing the proud predator, Hannibal leaned over, growled and bared his teeth at her.

"Oh please…as if that's a threat…remember, H… I like it when you bite!"

He drove his face into her neck and raked his teeth over her tender skin, growling and snarling for effect.

Clarice giggled, kicking and wriggling, trapped but loving it. "Let me go, H!"

"Never Clarice…I will never let you go." He proclaimed as he clamped his mouth over her throat and sucked hard at her skin, raising a large welt. He admired his work.

"What are you, fifteen? I mean… a hickey, H…Really?"

"Please, Clarice nothing that adolescent…it is my signature. An artist always signs his work and if you will remember, I worked very, very, hard last night."

Suddenly a loud, buzzing sound echoed throughout the first floor. Hannibal leapt quickly to his feet.

"Someone is at the gate. Are you expecting a delivery?"

"No, I wouldn't do something like that without telling you first."

"Feel free to shower. I will handle our guests."

"Handle them?"

"Don't be dramatic, Clarice. You may rest assured I will be ever the gentleman."

* * *

><p>Hannibal flipped on the television, switched to the channel designated for the security system and moved quickly to the view of the main gate. Very clearly, standing patiently at the intercom, Hannibal could see the young waiter from the restaurant.<p>

Hannibal pulled on fresh boxers, a pair of linen trousers and shirt. He didn't bother with shoes. He moved quickly through the master suite and accessed the intercom located in the main hallway.

"Hello, young man. May I help you?" Hannibal questioned politely.

"Yes sir, my name is Francisco I was your waiter last night. I've come to see you with my father. May we have a moment of your time? We will be brief."

"Yes, of course. The gate will open momentarily. The driveway is rather long but it will lead you directly to the residence. You may park next to my car and I will meet you."

Hannibal returned to the master suite to see Clarice pulling her wet hair into a pony tail. She was already fully dressed.

"Who was it, H?"

"The young man who served at table last night and his father."

"What? Why?"

"I haven't a clue." He opened his dresser and removed a pair of socks. Sitting on the edge of the bed he slipped them on and reached for his shoes. "Though I expect we will find out momentarily as they are heading down the drive as we speak." He quickly slipped his foot into his shoes, tied the laces quickly and stood.

"If you will excuse me, my Love, I'll be outside awaiting our guests."

Hannibal stood quietly at the edge of the driveway. The young man was sheepish as he exited the vehicle. The older gentleman appeared quite serious. Hannibal extended a friendly hand to the father.

"Hello, Sir. I have not had the pleasure. My name is Doctor Marco Dante."

"The pleasure is mine, Doctor Dante. I am Rodrigo Molina, my son Francisco I believe you have already met."

"Yes. A fine young man, I am certain that you are quite proud of him. He has exceptional manners and has been very well educated I can see. A reflection on his fine parents I am certain."

Hannibal gestured for the pair to accompany him to the house. Clarice waited, smiling in the entry.

"This is my lovely wife, Clarice." Hannibal turned to his wife. "Clarice, allow me to present Signor Rodrigo Molina. You are already acquainted with his fine son, Francisco."

Clarice shook the hands of both visitors. "I'm pleased to meet you, Signor Molina. You have a wonderful son. He is a bright and articulate young man. That is no doubt a reflection on his fine upbringing."

"I expressed the precise sentiments, Clarice."

"I fear your sentiments may change when my son tells you what he has done. Allow me to offer my apologies in advance of his. He has too much education and too little judgment, I think."

Francisco stood quietly staring at the floor in the entryway. Hannibal could see the young man was in distress having to confess whatever deed he had done.

"I'm certain whatever Francisco has done can be discussed amicably over a glass of wine."

Hannibal waved his arm gesturing to Clarice to lead.

"If you will follow my wife, gentlemen, she will lead the way. Clarice, I will retrieve a bottle of wine for our guests if you will please entertain them for a moment."

Clarice hid her confusion well, knowing that the wine was stored In the pantry,in the large temperature control cooler just next to the kitchen.

Up to something, H? Her eyes questioned.

"I won't be a tick, Gentlemen." He nodded to Clarice. She understood that she was to keep them occupied until he returned.

Hannibal slipped out the front door of his home and quickly retreated to the car parked beside his. It was left unlocked, his guests not believing security an issue thanks to the large gate and intercom system.

Hannibal placed a pair of driving gloves on his hands to avoid leaving fingerprints. He opened the door, slid behind the wheel and searched the glove box of the sedan. The young man had left his pay invoice in the car complete with his home address. Hannibal quickly committed it to memory and seeing nothing else of use for his purposes, closed the door quietly and returned to the house.

Clarice was placing trays of meats and cheeses as well as a large plate of sliced melons and a wide variety of fruit on the table in front of her guests. Hannibal returned to their company.

"Excuse my absence. My Love, where did I leave the wine we purchased yesterday afternoon?"

"I'm sorry, H. I put it in the pantry. I should've remembered."

"There is no need for apologies my Love."

Hannibal entered the pantry, retrieved the wine and served his guests.

"While on the subject of apologies, Doctor and Misses Dante, my son has one to offer you."

Hannibal turned to the young man now twisting in his chair of embarrassment.

"Francisco whatever you have to say we will accept your apology. Please don't torment yourself." Hannibal comforted. "Please, tell us that we may all move on."

Clarice smiled.

"Last night, when you were at the restaurant…I was really impressed by the way you handled that obnoxious guest. I took a video of it with my cell phone and I showed it to some of my friends at the restaurant who were in the kitchen. I shouldn't have. It was immature of me and I'm really sorry."

Hannibal was shocked that he hadn't picked up on the cell phone. It wasn't like him to miss a detail.

"Where is the cell phone? Do you have it with you?" Hannibal asked, showing no emotion whatever.

"My father took it from me." Francisco was mortified to admit.

"Signor Molina, do you have the phone with you? I would like to see the video if you wouldn't mind."

"Certainly Doctor, please be my guest." The gentleman took the phone out of his breast pocket. He fumbled with it for a moment, unsure of how to access the information.

Hannibal reached for the phone. "Please, Signor, allow me. This phone is similar to mine; I know how to operate it."

The father handed his son's phone to Lecter. "Of course, Doctor."

Hannibal quickly moved through the phone applications and accessed the video. He watched intently allowing Clarice to look on with him. He smiled as he watched, although his mind was processing the infinite ramifications of the evidence he was viewing.

"There is more than one video, yes?" Hannibal questioned after the video ended.

"There's another of…you…and your wife, Sir." Francisco offered, barely above a whisper.

"Don't tell me you have that kiss on video!" Hannibal reacted.

"Yes, Doctor…I'm embarrassed to say that he does." The father answered, clearly not pleased.

Hannibal was amused and actually looking forward to watching it. "Hey, Clarice…you might want to have a look."

"That's okay, H. You can enjoy that one without me…I was there. I remember what happened."

Hannibal pretended to be watching the video when he was, in fact, searching the cell phone history to see whether or not the video had been forwarded. He quickly tapped at the keys and forwarded to video to an untraceable cell phone he had recently purchased, deleted the history, folded the phone and reached to hand the phone to the father.

Rodrigo Molina held a hand up to Hannibal gesturing for him to keep the phone.

"The phone is yours to do with what you will, Doctor. My son has a lesson to learn and that lesson will include doing without his cell phone."

Signor Molina stood and gestured for his son to stand as well. "What do you have to say to the Doctor and his lovely wife, Francisco?"

"I am very sorry for invading your privacy. Please allow me to ask your forgiveness."

"No harm done." Clarice reassured, smiling at Francisco. The young man lifted his eyes to Clarice and immediately noticed the large welt on her throat. Knowing it had not been there the night before, and knowing that the Doctor must have created the mark he looked away, terrified.

Hannibal recognized the exact moment the young man spotted the mark on Clarice because he shot a terrified look at Hannibal.

Hannibal was amused. _That's right…she's mine._

He winked at Francisco. The young man looked away.

Hannibal extended his hand to Francisco.

Remembering the handshake Hannibal had delivered to the fat man, Francisco hesitated.

Hannibal could smell the young man's fear._ This is fun!_

"There is no need for concern, young man. I have no desire to harm you."

Francisco extended his hand and smiled when he realized that, while Hannibal's grip was firm, it did not increase in intensity.

"Again, Sir, I'm sorry."

"Your apology is appreciated and accepted, young Mr. Molina. You showed a great deal of character coming here today. You are a very brave young man."

"Thank you, Sir."

"We have taken enough of your time. My son and I thank you for your patience and your forgiveness."

"Not at all, allow me to walk you out, gentlemen."

Clarice sat at the table, picking at the fruit and cheese waiting for Hannibal to return.

She could hear Hannibal enter the house and move to the security panel in the main hallway. She recognized the sounds of the keyboard as he activated the security gate, waited for the car to pass and closed the gate.

Hannibal entered the kitchen, his friendly demeanor gone.

"The young man sent the video to what I am hoping is his personal email address."

"What does that mean to us, H?"

"It means, Clarice, that I will be forced to go out tonight."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	6. Chapter 6

**PREDATOR**

Most people would be fearful, not comforted to move through the darkness in an unfamiliar area but Hannibal Lecter was not most people. The moon formed a sliver in the sky, reflecting precious little light. The sky too was cooperative, the clouds moving in as if the evening welcomed him. As if it sought to envelope and to protect him.

With his car safely parked in a tourist area more than a mile from the Molina household, Hannibal ran along the back edges of the town, slipping quickly through the night. Taut muscles rippled as he dodged through the low underbrush of the Patagonian terrain, every sinew of his body responded without hesitation to his demand of it.

As he ran, his thoughts moved to Clarice. He could see her sleeping form in his mind's eye. He felt a palpable pang of loss when he left her side, the scent of her still upon him. There was no room for doubt. His mind must be clear. Clarice could not be with him on this. Hannibal stopped in his tracks, leaned against a tree and closed his eyes as he entered his memory palace. Hannibal Lecter began by closing himself off and locking the door to Husband. With a deep breath he opened the door to Predator, thus unleashing the beast he had worked so hard to trap within. His intense eyes flashed opened as if lightning shot from the pupils. The shift in his consciousness was now complete.

Instincts forced into dormancy began surging through his nervous system, electrifying him. Red irises burned. The maroon rims glow, afire with excitement ringing the deep blackness at the center. The depth and breadth of his onyx pupils are magnified to allow vision in the near total darkness. Every bit the predator, the very taste of night upon him, Hannibal Lecter was Becoming.

_Ever seen blood in the moonlight…It appears quite black._

Lecter's senses steadily processed the infinite stream of olfactory and auditory stimuli swirling around him. He could smell the glacial lake not far, the scent of the Pehuen collecting dew. He could discern the meals that each family had prepared in the hours previous. He could hear the fauna moving in the distance as they avoided contact with him, obviously recognizing Hannibal as the dominant predator in the area. He had no fear of wildlife and as such, the scent of fear was not upon him. He was predator not prey.

_No threats._

It wasn't long before he reached his destination. A small home, very much in the style of the area and though it was much more modest, it was similar in design to Hannibal's home, hewn from indigenous trees and rock. Homes in the area were situated in fairly close proximity to one another. He would need speed and stealth. Hannibal moved quietly around the outside of the building. The garage was empty. Parked in the driveway was one car.

_Not the same vehicle. The father and son are at work. Is there a woman? Yes, there is the scent of her perfume near her car._

Lecter located the electrical and phone supply to the home. He reviewed the wiring and concluded that there was no external link to a security system. He checked the windows. The sills showed no evidence of contacts or sensors. The home most likely did not have an alarm system.

_Now, where would the young man's bedroom be? Second floor… the Master would be on the main floor._

Hannibal found easy access to the second floor, a large tree growing quite conveniently along the rear of the home, out of eye sight from the road. He gripped a low hanging limb and pulled up, hooking the crook of his elbow over the limb. He then swung his body, turning onto the limb, securing a leg. With this as an anchor, he whipped his body over allowing him to sit on the branch. Hannibal then climbed quickly and quietly until he reached the roof line.

Stepping off the branch, he walked quietly on the roof, moving like mercury to avoid detection.

Looking into the windows, he quickly located Francisco's room. The walls glowed with the light of the laptop on the desk. Hannibal reached for the window, running his hand along the smooth glass he slipped in a thin sheet of metal and pushed the clasp over, unhitching the lock.

Hannibal cautiously slid the window up, waiting a few moments before entering in the event that there was an alarm he had not detected. Silence… thankfully there was no alarm.

_Not much for personal security, Rodrigo? I thank you for your trusting nature. It makes my job easier._

Hannibal stepped carefully into the bedroom and moved silently to the computer.

The young man was obviously not concerned about his father accessing information. It was not password protected and the history had not been deleted. Hannibal searched the history to see what the young man had been up to. You Tube.

_Cause for concern._

Hannibal removed an external hard drive from the bag slung across his chest. He connected the drive and moved folders from the young man's computer to the drive. He would reinstall folders that did not affect his safety. Only the files involving the video would be removed.

He quickly opened the applications and moved to the properties folder and in a few clicks of the mouse he was able to encrypt the contents to secure data. He checked the recycle bin just in case, and used a cipher program to overwrite the data.

Hannibal then reinstalled the harmless programs and files to the young man's lap top, making sure the video was no longer stored. He then tapped his foot on the switch of the surge protector so it would appear as if there had been tripped by a surge. Placing the hard drive back into his bag, he wiped the room down for prints and moved quickly to the window. Just as he stepped over the sill Hannibal could hear footfalls.

_Danger!_

It was not the scent of a female therefore Hannibal knew he had not been overheard by the mother. It was Francisco. Hannibal lowered the window and just before Francisco spotted him, Hannibal dropped down gracefully and flattened himself along the shingles.

The door to the room swung open.

Hannibal held his breath as the young man approached the window.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**L****H**


	7. Chapter 7

**PRAY**

Clarice was asleep when her husband left their bed to run his 'errand'. She was not surprised that he had been able to take his leave without disturbing her sleep. She was surprised that he went to the trouble of coming to bed at all if he knew he would be getting up again.

_Maybe he thought he could get back before I would miss him._

Clarice, ever modest, covered her nudity by putting on a silk robe. She left the master suite knowing it would make no sense staying in bed at this point. She would be unable to fall back to sleep. She checked the nightstand. Alas, no note.

_What time did you leave, Hannibal? A note would have been nice._

Clarice walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. She had a sweet tooth and the fresh fruit wouldn't cut it, so she headed to the pantry to see what she could find.

_What the hell?_

There, on the center shelf prominently displayed, was a large box of the handmade chocolates Hannibal had promised to buy her the day before.

"When the heck did you have time to get this done?" She said out loud as if expecting an answer. Clarice smiled as she pulled the wax- sealed envelope from the decorative box, broke the seal and slipped the folded linen paper out to read the note. It was written in perfectly executed copperplate.

_Dear Clarice,_

_Please accept my apologies for leaving your side this evening. I want you to know that it was quite difficult, as watching you sleep has long been a weakness of mine. I was finally able to pry myself from your side just after midnight. Judging by my observations of your sleep patterns, it should be near on three o'clock when you receive this.'_

Clarice shifted her attention from the note to the large pendulum clock in the kitchen. The time was ten minutes past three o'clock.

_How the hell does he do that? _She turned back to the note.

_In any event, please enjoy the chocolates. I did after all promise to buy them for you. As you will see when you lift the first layer of this box, I will forever keep my promises to you._

_Ever Yours,_

_H._

Clarice lifted the tray housing the first layer of chocolates. There, surrounded by glistening chocolates, wrapped neatly in crimson cellophane with a shimmering golden bow was Hannibal Lecter's Harpy. _He is unprotected._ Though it had been many years since she bent a knee in prayer, a few words couldn't hurt.

_God… if you're out there, bring him back to me._

**PREY**

Hannibal focused on the partially open window. Though he had pulled it down as quickly as possible he had been forced to drop from view before it had been fully closed. Footfalls approached. Hannibal used his forearms and his feet to rise up slightly from the wooden shingles.

He shifted his weight slowly, deliberately, his hands and feet working smoothly in concert. Hannibal moved backward seeking the protection of the tree, quickly being enveloped in the darkness. He remained in this position, poised much like a spider lying in wait of his prey.

The young man at the window looked out into the night. He appeared confused at first but, shaking his head, closed the window, locked it and went to sit in front of his computer. He tried to turn it on with no luck so he bent to check the surge protector and noticed it has been flipped. He pushed the button and turned on the computer.

Hannibal lifted his head from the shadows and watched as Francisco used the lap top. The young man tapped away at the keys, moving from site to site, wholly unaware that anything is different.

_Not a computer science major, my friend? Better for us both, I think._

**HOME**

Clarice could hear Hannibal's BMW roaring down the drive and ran outside to meet him.

He exited the car and was surprised as she ran into his arms and kissed him. He tasted the chocolate and smiled. As they walked, Hannibal rested his hand on hand on the small of her back, enjoying the sensation of her hips shifting.

"You taste delicious. Did you enjoy your gift, Clarice?"

"Yes, thank you."

Realizing Clarice was nude save the robe, Hannibal's hand wandered lower to her backside. Feigning irritation she brushed it away. "I didn't enjoy waking up alone, however."

"My apologies, it was regretful and as stated in my note, it was very, very difficult."

"Difficult didn't stop you." She said, a shudder running through her, chilled by the night air.

Hannibal felt the tremor, lifted her into his arms and carried her to their home. He whispered in her ear.

"In order to protect you, Clarice…there is _nothing_ that _could_ stop me."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	8. Chapter 8

**LOGAN'S BUDDY**

"What'd you say, Lloyd?" Logan asked as he hopped off the treadmill and moved to the free weights. He hoisted large plates to a bar and slid the collars on the end. Logan curled the bar quickly and easily.

Bowman stole a sideways glance, definitely suffering from bicep envy. Logan pulled at the bar, his muscles flexing larger that Lloyd Bowman's thighs. Lloyd counted quickly, including the bar, one hundred and seventy pounds.

_Christ he curls more than I weigh!_

Feeling emasculated in comparison to Logan, Bowman pumped furiously at the stationary bike as if driving the pedals forward would visibly raise his testosterone level.

"I said if you were wondering how your buddy was doing? Why don't you just give him a call?"

In between grunts, Logan complained, "I want to, but Delia won't let me. She told me I have to wait, but, Dude, I totally hate waiting."

Ardelia shot a glare in Logan's direction.

_Jesus Christmas Logan, shut up! Lloyd's smarter than he looks!_

Seeking to deflect from the topic, Ardelia countered, "Logan's just obsessed with some jarhead he went through LeJeune with. The guy is a real head case…probably has some post- traumatic stress wrapped up with a lot of narcissism."

"He's fucking awesome..." Logan offered between rolls of the weight bar. "…and you know it, Dee."

"That's enough, Logan." She warned.

"A real 'climb the clock tower and take out the town' type of guy, huh?" Bowman chuckled.

"No! He's totally cool. Man, everybody doesn't fit into little cubbies labeled 'PERFECTLY NORMAL' you know, I mean… I know I don't." Logan laughed. "And, I'm actually kind of proud of that. Who the fuck wants to be normal... Dude, normal sucks!"

"Yeah and that's part of your charm, Logan." Ardelia thought it might be best to change the subject.

"So Lloyd… Pearsall said we have a meeting with the task force."

"Yeah, don't you check your email? Tomorrow at nine o'clock, they have identification on the girl but they aren't reporting it yet."

Ardelia did a double take as she climbed off the machine she was on. "No kidding? Why not?"

"The girl's got some kind of political or international connection. I guess it is a huge deal because after the briefing, the White House Press Secretary is going to hold a conference."

Ardelia jumped off the treadmill and grabbed her towel. "Wow, really… shades of Catherine Martin."

"No, this is bigger…international I think…a real situation."

"Yeah well I'm gonna laugh my ass off, cuz if that's true you'll be wishing you had my buddy's help on this one…crazy or not!" Logan set down the weights. "Then you'll be begging me to call him!"

"Yeah, we might _have_ to call in the Marines." Bowman agreed. "This one won't be easy."

"OOO-RAH!" Logan boomed.

Ardelia picked up her towel and gym bag. "I'm hitting the showers. Let's go, Logan. You're my ride and I don't feel like hanging out next to your car waiting so when I move you follow, handsome."

"I'd never leave you waiting, Dee. You don't have to worry." He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in. "Hell, I'd follow you anywhere."

Logan waved at Lloyd, "Catch you on the flip side, Bowmeister!"

_Bowmeister? A nickname…Cool!_

Grateful for the 'Bro-name', Bowman waved a little too enthusiastically and responded in kind.

"Catch you later, Loganator!" Lloyd making an obvious reference to Logan's 'Terminator' level physique.

Logan laughed. "Loganator! Well done, Bowmeister…well done!"

**THE RIPPER**

When the young woman woke from the drug induced slumber, her mind was foggy, her eyes strained to find their focus. Terrified, she attempted calm her nerves by assessing her situation. It was dark, the area illuminated from the single bulb swinging from the ceiling. Her eyes searched for any information that might aide her.

_Where am I? No traffic. Not near a major road. I'm isolated. Rectangular…metal...is it shipping container… or maybe tractor trailer?_

She checked her physical status.

_Arms tied… crucifix position. Legs are bound. Duct tape…not much hope of breaking it._

She strained her neck.

_Head is not restricted and no gag. If there is no gag…there is probably no hope of being heard._

"Hello? Hello?" She called out, not really wanting a response. A response would mean who ever took her, was still nearby.

A man slowly appeared from the shadows. She quickly sized him up.

_Physically strong, too tall, I won't be able to overpower him._

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice much higher than she expected.

"You took me from my school?"

"Yes."

"Why? What did I do to you?" She asked, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

"The question isn't what you did to me. The correct question is what am I going to do to you?"

**BECOMING HUSBAND**

Hannibal didn't set Clarice down until he placed her on their bed.

"My evening included quite a bit of physical exertion, therefore I must shower before I join you, Clarice. If you find yourself drifting to sleep, I would not be offended. It is quite late and I am certain the stress of the evening weighed heavily on you."

"I wouldn't compare my discomfort tonight with yours, H."

"Discomfort is discomfort, Clarice. Mine is no more significant than yours."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, my Love."

Clarice sought to be supportive. "You can shower. I'll wait up for you. I thought you might need to talk."

She yawned widely, covering her mouth and waving a hand as if trying to negate her body's response.

Hannibal's patience was wearing thin. His nervous system was functioning on overload, still churning with adrenalin and endorphins. His body, though extremely fit, was no longer accustomed to handling the chemical changes and without benefit of solitude, he was having difficulty corralling his predatory responses.

"You are being quite stubborn, Clarice. It is obvious you are exhausted and to be perfectly honest with you, at this particular moment I do not feel the need to relay the evening's experiences. I will be much more suitable company tomorrow. Right now, I need a shower and a few moments to gather myself."

Hannibal had not expected Clarice to meet him outside of their home; therefore, the time he would have taken to come down from the emotion of the evening had been unknowingly disallowed.

The physical and psychological energy that surged through him and was now radiating from him was misinterpreted by Clarice as aggression. This aggression she believed was being directed at her personally. Tired and having worried about him all night, she lashed out somewhat irrationally.

"Why are you're trying so hard to put me off?" She snapped, "I only want to help."

"I do not _require_ your assistance."

His maroon orbs flashed crimson, giving him the appearance of a nocturnal animal, eyes glowing in the moonlight.

Clarice challenged, rising to her knees she reached out and poked him in the chest.

"And don't give me that lone-wolf-in-the-woods look. It doesn't scare me in the least."

Hannibal recoiled slightly.

"I am going to pretend that statement was not made, Clarice as I am aware you are exhausted. I will make every effort not to respond in kind as I am equally spent and I do not wish to overreact. Please, leave me be."

"I was worried sick about you tonight so don't condescend to me you Son of a…"

Hannibal spun to face his wife, his frayed nerves getting the best of him, he warned, "Clarice, mind that you do not finish that sentence. I would prefer my mother not be referred to as a female dog."

"Why in the goddamned hell shouldn't I call your mother a Bitch? You called my parents poor tornado bait white trash!"

"I do apologize. That was much earlier in our relationship, Clarice. I believe the dynamic has changed."

"Oh, the dynamic has changed all right, _Doctor_." Clarice rose up and stepped off the bed. She was now toe to toe with Hannibal, posturing aggressively.

Hannibal could feel the rage boiling within him. He fought to suppress it. His nostrils flared as he used his senses to assess the situation. He could smell it. Fear. From his Clarice? No, not fear of him. Instead, fear for him.

_She was afraid for you. This isn't anger…it is fear…do not respond in kind._

"Would you use my title instead of my name, Clarice? Has it truly come to that? After all we have…"

Clarice was so enraged she didn't allow him to finish the sentence.

"What…after all we have of what, _Doctor Lecter_? You chose this dynamic! You choose everything! All I wanted to do was comfort you… all I wanted to do was show you that I understood the chance you took to protect us. All I got back from you was a pat on the head and a push off to bed. I won't be dismissed like that! I'm not a goddamned child!"

Though he had promised himself not to respond, the lateness of the hour and his frustration with the events of the evening belayed his intention.

"If you are not a child why are you behaving as such by having this tantrum, Clarice?"

Exploding with frustration Clarice Starling lashed out and slapped Hannibal Lecter directly across the face. He accepted the full force of her attack without flinching, though he could have easily evaded the contact.

Clarice stared at him, wide-eyed, her hand still stinging, the buzz of contact radiating across her palm. As soon as she felt the sting of her hand hitting his flesh, she wanted to take it back.

_Too late. The damage is done...I hurt him. I'm just like everyone else in his life...I hurt him._

Her heart sank as the evidence of her anger raised a red, perfectly formed image of her hand on his flesh. Another mark on the body she vowed would see no more pain. Agonized, she watched for his reaction. Her eyes met his, her heart seeking to tell him what she could not.

_H...Please...I'm so sorry...I love you...please... I'm so sorry._

Clarice reached a hand of comfort to him.

His breath rough and ragged, Hannibal held his trembling palms up, gesturing for her to stay at a distance.

His body shuddered, not from the pain of the impact, but from the heart wrenching anguish of it. Emotion being channeled through his laser red eyes, they narrowed slightly. His chest heaved and his muscled shoulders shook as he fought a mighty internal battle, struggling, drawing on everything within his power to chain the savage destructive power of Predator.

Clarice was helpless. Hannibal was rage.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	9. Chapter 9

**BEHOLD A GOD**

Hannibal was enraged and immediately retreated to the other side of the room, pacing back and forth beside the bed. He would not look at Clarice. He stared at the ground his body shaking, fists clenched at his side. His exhalations steamed from him much like a mighty bull snorting breath through its nostrils. He stalked and he paced as if cornered, scuffing at the ground, preparing to gore.

Clarice knew that to show weakness would endanger her further. She must not shrink from him…she must not cower in fear even though every instinct in her body told her to run, told her to hide.

"H? Talk to me."

He didn't speak. He wouldn't look up. He paced, back and forth. The silence was terrifying.

Blind terror surged through her, not of Hannibal, she would never fear Hannibal; but of this…man. This _being_ in front of her…this was_ not_ Hannibal. This was not H…this was not Husband.

"Talk to me…I need to know you're in there…please, talk to me, H."

But this wasn't her husband. This was the man Clarice watched on video…the man who attacked and savaged the nurse. Behold, Hannibal the Cannibal, few had been in his presence and survived. Clarice Starling was not sure that she would survive and… if this is what her love had become…she was not certain she wanted to.

_His pulse never got above eighty-five…even when he ate her tongue._

Clarice needed to reach him… to break through, but he was Terror and she was afraid. "I know you can smell the fear and I know I shouldn't be afraid, you won't hurt me, but I'm scared, H. I'm really, really scared."

She tried to move toward him but quickly he turned from her and faced the chest of drawers in the corner of their bedroom. Briefly, his eyes flashed across the mirror and Hannibal caught sight of the hand print on his face. His jaw clenched and quivered with rage. He drew back, tightened his fist and punched his hand through the mirror sending shards of glass exploding across the room. He withdrew his now bloodied hand and turned toward Clarice.

She could see the anger flashing in his eyes. The comforting warm maroon glow she had come to love now flamed like the raging gates of hell. Quickly and without warning, he charged at her. Within the blink of an eye he was looming over her, growling in her ear.

"No, H!" She flinched, but held her ground.

Hannibal swung his arm, his fist balled tightly. Clarice closed her eyes but did not move, expecting to fall when the punch hit. She felt the breeze as his fist cut through the air crunching into the sheetrock wall beside her head. The wall crushed, his blood spattered across the paint, large hunks of the plasterboard broke away.

Raging uncontrollably, Hannibal punched both hands alternately into the wall. Clarice closed her eyes as the dust from the plaster board fogged the air around her. He pressed his body against her, leaning into the wall, crushing his weight against her petite form. From his throat came growling, guttural sounds that passed through his bared, clenched teeth. Within his mind, he tore through his memory palace, running, chasing, barricading…trying to cordon off the predator within.

Blinding rage spilled over, blood spurting, teeth biting, ripping flesh as Hannibal's mind spun, dizzy from the images of violence churning from the depths of his memory. Clawing, grasping, pulling, crushing, crunching, tearing, burning, boiling, begging, pleading, screaming, all consuming, the battle raged within him. There were no words…only the images of blood red crimson swirling around him. There were scents and tastes, metallic serum, sticky and warm, the pulse of it barely gone.

Clarice recognized the struggle and shifted uncomfortably still trapped against him. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as she clutched at the thin fabric of the robe she was wearing. It would be no protection…_there would be no protection_ if his full fury were unleashed, nothing would stop his destruction.

Searing heat grew from the pit of his belly, like molten hot lava churning at his center, swelling, nauseous as the volcanic bile rose in the back of his throat.

Clarice summoned the courage to look him in the eye, she needed to assess her situation.

Of Hannibal's countenance a warning as his terrifying maroon eyes sparked and spun like the chrysanthemum shaped fireworks Clarice remembered from childhood. She searched deeply into those savage, mercurial eyes…his eyes…through the rage… in a flash of a moment…buried deeply… she saw _him_. She knew.

"You're _still_ Hannibal… you're _my_ Hannibal… I know your Nature and I am not afraid."

Still locked on his eyes she extended her arms and reached for his hands.

Hannibal shook his head and pulled back raising them high above his head, his eyes wild. He could barely mouth the warning. "Clarice… no… no control."

Hannibal stepped backward away from Clarice, his arms still raised. He did not trust himself any longer to touch her. His body was tense every muscle taut, like bundled cords of steel he crossed his forearms and pressed them painfully against his forehead.

She raised her hands in supplication and moved closer still.

Barely a whisper hissed from his lips as he trembled, desperate to keep her at bay.

"No, Clariiiicce…No."

She hadn't heard that drawn out metallic rasp from the dungeon in years. It chilled her…still she pressed on. Clarice, his Love, wrapped her arms around his neck and drew herself as tightly to him as she could manage, resigned to bring him back to her or die in his arms…at his hands.

"Come back to me, H…come back to me."

"RRRRRAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!" Hannibal's body convulsed violently as emotions he could not verbalize poured out in this savage primal roar, as plaintive as it was terrifying, the explosive vocalization so deep, and sorrowful that Clarice's heart tore in two at the hearing of it.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. Her legs hung down, swinging like a rag doll in his hold. He held her, squeezing her body aggressively. This was not a hug it was the crushing constriction of an anaconda, his arms like pythons compressing her torso, asphyxiating her.

Instead of calling out, she pulled him to her tighter, holding his quaking frame, willing him to stillness. She could not see the expression in his eyes as they were shut tightly, though she could feel moisture, the track of the tear that had passed down his cheek the moment she reached to hold him.

_He is not Predator…he is Pain._

Clarice searched her memory for the Dante he often read and spoke the words into his ear softly, her breath a whisper of comfort on his skin.

"Ne li occhi porta la mia donna Amore…"

_In her eyes my lady bears Love._

She hoped he would remember the rainy day they spent together the first week of their marriage, Clarice resting her head in his lap as he read Dante sonnets to her aloud in medieval Italian. The day was heavenly.

Her mind was now dizzy from lack of oxygen, her chest crushing from the want to breathe she closed her eyes and remembered that day. She concentrated on his perfect pronunciation, of his velvet intonation, his voice so smooth and comforting. He was gentle. He was tender. He was Love.

As she held him she could feel his mighty muscles tremble, still, she continued.

"E qual soffrisse di starle e vedere divverria nobil cosa, si morria."

_And he whom she suffered to gaze upon her would become noble or die._

Though he did not increase the pressure, still he held her tightly, his body offered no relief.

How to reach him? Krendler's kitchen…the kiss...

Clarice Starling took his face in her hands and closed her eyes. Trusting, she moved closer to the lips and teeth that had maimed and killed so many and kissed him gently, tenderly, lovingly. He did not return the kiss, though his lips became pliant. She pulled back and whispered.

"Stop…if you loved me, you'd stop."

Upon hearing her words he lightened his grip but did not fully release her. Still holding her, though now quite gently, he buried his face in her neck. Clarice could feel the rise and fall of his breath and the jackhammer beating of his heart pounding against his rib cage. He shuddered, trying to slow his respirations.

"Come, H…let me take care of you."

Clarice took his hand, led him to the master bathroom and turned on the water. Slowly, she began to remove his clothing. Hannibal did not resist, moving when she directed him to move. When he was fully unclothed, she led him into the shower, took off her robe and stepped in with him.

Clarice soaped a plush washcloth and moved it gently over his skin. Hannibal placed his palms on the tile and leaned forward, his head hanging low between his shoulders.

Still out of breath, his respirations began slowing as his wife cared for him. Clarice lovingly tended his body, content to do so, heartened as the tension eased from him. Though both were nude and Clarice did not ignore his genitals as she soaped his body, there was nothing sexual in this loving exchange. Her touch on his flesh was compassion. It was empathy. Passion was for another day.

Clarice cleansed the night's exertion from him, lingering over his spent muscles, massaging him vigorously where she could feel tension and gently cleansing the areas where he was bruising. She turned off the water and stepped out of the large glass stall.

"It's time for bed, H."

She then guided him out, dried his body, reached a clean towel and wrapped it around him.

Hannibal, feeling much more himself, reached for another towel, dried his wife's body and helped her with her robe. He whispered in her ear.

"Ecce deus fortiori me, qui veniens dominabitur michi."

_Behold a god more powerful than I who comes to rule over me._

They walked to the bedroom and climbed into bed, collapsing naked into each other's arms. They cuddled against one another, Hannibal taking the more protective position, cradling his wife against his body. Sleep found Clarice first. Hannibal rose up on an elbow and watched her for more than an hour, admiring the mighty warrior that had chosen to share his life. He kissed the gunpowder scar on her cheek.

"My brave Clarice..."

Before drifting off to sleep he entered his memory palace and opened the door marked Husband.

Clarice had already closed the door to Predator.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: This story, No More a Savage Life: Chapter Two has recently moved from a T Rating to an M rating**

**THE RATING HAS CHANGED ON THIS STORY AS SOME OF THE UPCOMING CHAPTERS WILL INCLUDE MATURE THEMES, SEXUAL SITUATIONS AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE **

**THE FOURTH ESTATE**

Ardelia Mapp and Lloyd Bowman entered the FBI lounge and flipped on the television in time for the news conference.

When the White House Press Secretary stepped in front of the cameras her stoic demeanor reflected the serious and rather tumultuous nature of the issue at hand.

"I will be making a brief statement. It will be self-explanatory and I will not be taking questions as this is a continuing investigation. At the White House today, the President of the United States welcomed Egyptian Prime Minister Anwar Bashandi. Prime Minister Bashandi's visit is in response to the abduction of his daughter, Mariyah from her college in Virginia.

The President has pledged the full resources of local and federal government, law enforcement, military and any and all resources available to locate and return the Prime Minister's daughter to her family, unharmed. Egypt has long been a valuable ally to the United States and The Republic of Egypt is a beacon of the Arab world, offering the guidance of experience and assistance to neighbors seeking similar reform. Therefore the President and Vice President offer the powers of their office as well as the power of their prayers, and the prayers of the American People, for the safe return of Mariyah to her family.

If the abductor wishes to communicate directly with the White House to arrange for the return of Mariyah, a special line has been set up. Contact your local FBI offices to be directed to the appropriate number. If Mariyah Bashandi is returned immediately and is unharmed, the President assures that this magnanimous gesture will be taken into consideration and much greater leniency will be afforded.

A reward of ten million dollars will be paid for any information that leads to the safe return of Mariyah. The information will be kept confidential and the informant can remain completely anonymous. Thank you."

The screen was then filled with the picture of the young girl at her high school graduation in front of the Great Pyramids at Giza. FBI contact numbers began scrolling the bottom of the screen.

Ardelia shook her head and looked at Lloyd Bowman.

"Holy shit she's the daughter of the Egyptian Prime Minister? I thought Egypt had a President."

"The President appoints the Prime Minister, but I don't think they've had a President since Mubarak."

"Why the hell is our President involved?"

"Egypt is a big player in Africa and the Middle East. It has laws that separate the political parties and religion which is quite unusual in that area of the world. If that area destabilizes any more… it's better to have more friends than less. If that girl turns up less than healthy…well that wouldn't exactly be a diplomatic plus for us."

"Do you think the Ripper knew who he was picking up when he grabbed the girl?"

"Probably not, his victims have been opportunity based. They have had no known connection. He decides who he's going to copy, then what ever poor woman happens to fit his time and location is the one he grabs. That's why he has been so tough to catch. There's no predictability."

Ardelia shook her head in disagreement. "There's always predictability…there's always a pattern. We just don't see it. He isn't being totally random. I mean, we know he's using the techniques of the killers Lecter helped us catch. Has he done anything at all like Lecter or just the Tooth Fairy and Buffalo Bill?"

"He is removing flesh, but not like Lecter." Bowman offered.

"What do you mean but not like Lecter?"

Since they were alone in the lounge Bowman turned off the television so they could talk. "Lecter removed small cuts, cheeks, small muscles on either side of the back, liver, thymus, pancreas, pieces that are very specific in the preparation of fine cuisine. The Ripper name fits the copycat more than it did Lecter."

"What do you mean?"

"This guy does just that, he carves out large hunks of muscle and flesh. I mean he knows what he's doing, but if he's cooking it, I'd be shocked."

"What do you think he does with it? You don't think he's eating it?"

"If he's eating it…he's got a hell of a big family!"

**MARIYAH**

"Have you watched the news lately? They'll be looking for me. They won't stop."

The Ripper paced around the inside of the container. "They have looked for them all, but they don't find them. Not until I want them to. They won't find you either. Not until…"

"Not until you want them to?"

"No…not until I'm through with you."

He flipped a switch that activated a spot light on the table next to the girl. The table was covered with a large sheet. The Ripper walked up to the table but he was careful to remain in the shadows. He reached for and grabbed the cloth with the flourish of a magician, snapping it off the table like a bullwhip, uncovering the items it had been protecting. The table was covered with what looked like surgical tools but far more sadistic in appearance.

The girl looked over at the table. Seeing the medieval looking instruments, her stomach sank.

"Do you like my toys? I had them especially made. You will get to know each of them…intimately. Before we are through, you will have your favorites, as I most certainly have mine. If you are cooperative…I will let you choose."

"Please go watch the news…it's not too late for you. You can still let me go…I don't know where I am and I haven't gotten a good look at your face yet. I can't even tell what you look like or how old you are."

The Ripper moved directly under the light so that his entire face was illuminated.

"I'm thirty-two."

**THE MORNING AFTER**

Clarice stirred believing she smelled bacon and sat up in bed just in time to see Hannibal walking into the bedroom, carrying a tray. He looked well rested wearing a robe, his hair slicked back off his face.

"Hey, Handsome is that bacon I smell?"

"Yes, Clarice. It is indeed bacon."

"None of that pancetta crap you're so in love with…real bacon in greasy, crispy, strips?"

"Yes, as much as it pains me to prepare, it is a sign of my appreciation, a country breakfast, complete with homemade biscuits, eggs, bacon, and sausage."

"What's in the little bowl?"

"Grits, my Love."

"No you didn't! They aren't instant are they?"

"Please, Clarice. I may lower my standards on occasion to provide you with the foods that comfort you but please rest assured the word 'instant' is not a part of my vocabulary with regard to food preparation."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sure it tastes as wonderful as it smells."

Hannibal set the tray on the nightstand and helped Clarice to sit up propping pillows to make her comfortable. He then spread a cloth napkin over her stomach and set the tray over her lap.

Clarice admired the presentation. "I love the rose, H. Is this orange juice?"

"It began as freshly squeezed orange juice. I decided however that a little champagne would add to your enjoyment of the meal."

"Champagne adds to the enjoyment of everything! Aren't you going to join me?"

"I enjoyed a plate of fresh fruit while I was preparing your meal. This repast is not to my taste, Clarice."

Hannibal took his place at her side resting on his back with his fingers interlaced over a pillow on his stomach.

Clarice stabbed at a large piece of bacon, opened her mouth widely and pushed the entire strip into her mouth. She chewed it as if she was enjoying the finest cut of meat. "Hmmmmm, that isn't just bacon. It's a little strip of heaven."

"It pleases me to see you enjoy it, Clarice."

"Everything about you pleases me, my husband."

"Not _everything_ about me pleases you…last night, Clarice?"

"H, you had a rough night. I'm your wife it's my responsibility to help you when you're hurting. I'm really sorry I slapped you, though. I was just so beside myself with worry. I shouldn't have lashed out like that. After all you had been through I didn't have the right."

"No one has ever been with me when I have been in that state of mind. The readjustment was difficult."

"I know you've always been alone. I know that whenever you were forced to…go out or do something that required you to rely on your instincts you were able to come down from it in privacy. I should have given you some space. It shouldn't have been about my feelings. I was inconsiderate. I'm sorry."

"I fear that I injured you."

"I can take it. I'm not as delicate as you think." She smiled as she stuffed another fork full of breakfast in her mouth. "But if you want to make it up to me…"

"Yes, Clarice?"

"I've got an hour or two cleared on my schedule after breakfast. We can put our heads together and see what we come up with."

Hannibal smiled devilishly and winked. "I may have an idea or two we can occupy ourselves with. You finish your meal and allow me to return momentarily to the kitchen. After I have finished cleaning, and you have finished eating, we will see where the morning takes us."

"It had better take you right back beside me…I'm a country girl, H. To me, bacon is an aphrodisiac." Hannibal jumped to his feet and moved across the room.

"Hold that thought, Clarice. I won't be a tick."


	11. Chapter 11

**HEAVEN**

Clarice enjoyed the remainder of her breakfast in the peaceful solitude of their bedroom. She listened for Hannibal but was aware that her effort would be of little use. She would often attempt to discern his movements but no matter how intently she listened, she never had auditory evidence of his pending arrival. Knowing he was barefoot, she was now certain not to have prior warning. It seemed to her as if he could just materialize in a room.

Music began to play throughout the home. Clarice could often judge her husband's mood based on the selection of music he chose to play through the intercom system.

Lilting through the speakers were the sweet violins of Beethoven's Ode to Joy.

_He's happy._

Just as Clarice moved to lift the tray from her lap, Hannibal appeared.

"Please allow me to get that for you, Clarice."

He reached for the tray and moved it to a table next to Clarice's favorite reading chair beside the window. Hannibal moved quickly to her side as Clarice pulled the bedcovers back to allow him entrance.

As soon as Hannibal slipped out of his robe and moved to get into bed, Clarice wagged a finger at him stopping him in his tracks. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You're not going to need those boxers, H."

Hannibal unabashedly stepped out of the undergarment and sidled into bed. He reached for Clarice and held her as she rested her head on his chest.

"Did you enjoy your breakfast, my Love?"

"It was wonderful. Thank you for being so thoughtful."

"It was my pleasure." Hannibal spoke softly, rolling onto his side so that he and Clarice were facing one another. Smiling, he ran his index finger down the bridge of her nose and across her lips.

"You are absolutely stunning, Clarice."

"You're not so bad to look at yourself, H."

He leaned to her and kissed her softly. "It is kind of you to say so, Clarice but there are mirrors in this house and while I am a vain man, I have no illusions."

Looking over her shoulder at the broken mirror on the bureau she laughed. "Well, I don't know about your illusions but there's one less mirror, anyway."

"As you slept I discarded the broken glass for safety's sake but did not want to remove the entire mirror frame as I am certain the noise would have disturbed you. I shall attend to it before day's end."

"I was just playing around. We'll get to it later."

"Clarice, it pains me to know that I frightened you. Please understand that it was not my intention. My animalistic instincts have served me well, but turning them on and off is not a switch I can easily flip in your presence. One normally requires privacy for that sort of thing. That being said, please keep in mind that while I will never seriously harm you, if ever you are in my presence again while I am in that state, it would be better if you were not aggressive. Instinct is a very primal thing and while I am fully aware of what is happening around me, I am acting as a predator, not as your husband and as such I have very limited control emotionally. I also experience a dramatic surge of adrenalin and as such have heightened strength and have very limited restraint. I worry that I may accidentally injure you in an attempt to restrain myself. I don't wish you to fear me but please...be ever mindful my Love."

Clarice absentmindedly floated her palm across his chest, brushing gently over the slightly greying hair. She spoke softly, not wanting Hannibal to think she had any remaining trepidation. "I'm sorry, H. I didn't understand your process…it was my fault. Actually, I was only just a little afraid at first but when I looked into your eyes… I knew I was safe. That being said, I hadn't expected that level of aggression. You are a very powerful and formidable man. It was a really intense experience, but one that I am glad to have shared with you. It was difficult to watch you suffer through that."

"It has long been a struggle of mine."

Clarice reached for his face and stroked his cheek. "Well, now you don't have to struggle alone."

Hannibal slipped a hand under Clarice and pulled her fully alongside his body. He reached up and gently passed his hands over her shoulders and arms. He next moved his touch to her torso, spanning his fingertips over her ribs and abdomen, curiously avoiding her breasts.

"Hannibal?"

"Yes, Clarice?" He questioned, concentrating on her responses as his touch moved over her hips to the small of her back, up along her spine and across her shoulder.

"Are you being romantic or are you checking me for bruises?"

"Is there a reason it cannot be both?"

"No, I guess not…so have I passed your inspection, Doctor?"

"Yes Clarice. You are perfection."

She leaned over him and provocatively brushed her left breast across his lips.

Hannibal moved quickly to capture it, teasing gently with his teeth against the tip of flesh, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closely to him.

She allowed her head to dip down, her hair brushing along his cheek. She could hear the deep purring sound rising from the back of his throat as he attended to her breast.

"You sound like a lion H, but you're really just a big pussycat."

He growled against her flesh, a raw, husky, deep, sensuous sound, the vibration of it undulating against her skin.

"Quit it that tickles!" She shifted against his body, trying to pull slightly away from him.

He gripped her body and passed his tongue over the areola, and swirled tiny circles around the flesh before latching firmly to her breast.

Clarice was giggling, the contact sending shivers up her spine.

"H! I said stop! Christ that really tickles!"

Again, she tried to pull back but he gripped his wrists and locked her in his embrace.

As Hannibal would not release his hold on her, Clarice dropped closer to him, laughing so hard her body was shaking. She could feel the shifting of his parted lips drawing up against her breast as they very slowly pulled upward into what she could only imagine was a very devilish smile.

Still he refused her efforts to wean him.

"You do know that tickling is a form of torture?"

"Uh huh." He affirmed.

"You don't want to stop?"

"Uuummmuuuh." It was the only negative response Hannibal could manage without releasing his hold on her breast.

"Oh yeah, wise guy…well, I gave you fair warning…two can play at that game!"

Unconcerned with hiding his physical responses to her, Hannibal became what Clarice believed was an easy target. Though her movement was slightly restricted by his physical attachment to her she repositioned her body so that she was directly over Hannibal's arousal. Clarice straddled his hips and very slowly began to rock over him, grinding back and forth along his length.

"Mmmmmmmm." Feeling as though every nerve ending in his body was being electrified, Hannibal grabbed her hips and encouraged the movement. Not to be out done in the area of self –control, he refused his body's instinct to seek entrance and controlled his breathing to prolong this pleasure.

Clarice considered his response a challenge. "I'm going to keep doing this until you beg me to stop."

"Uuummmuuuh!" He mumbled.

As Clarice rocked back and forth, Hannibal continued to generously attend to the breast she offered, alternating his tongue and teeth as he mercilessly teased at the now hyper sensitive pearl of flesh. It wasn't long before his attention to her breast and her own erotic actions brought her to the edge of her ecstasy. Her heart began to race as the flesh, slick from the friction, dramatically escalated her arousal.

Hannibal could smell the pheromones swirling around them. He reached with an index finger for the pulse point at her hip. Feeling the rapidly rising pulse, he knew her heart was racing as her increased respirations were becoming shallow, and uneven.

_She is near her end._

His pride in being able to satisfy her being such that it is, Hannibal sought to push Clarice a little further. He flattened the heels of his palms on her pubic bone and turned his thumbs downward, seeking the sensitive peak of flesh at her apex. He slipped his thumbs between the folds of her body; the three quick inhalations from Clarice the only confirmation Hannibal needed that he found what he was seeking. Slowly, he added pressure and rolled his thumbs over each other, twirling them in tiny circles over the slippery orb of swollen flesh. Her breath became ragged as her body shuddered from want.

"Oh my god, H, please…now!"

Hannibal released her breast, shifted his body and eased into her, slowly so as not to cause discomfort. He held his breath and waited with longing as he did each and every time he entered her.

_Do not disappoint me, my Love._

She did not. Hannibal watched with rapt attention as the scene he so desired began to play itself out. Clarice's head tilted back, ever so slightly, her lips parted, almost imperceptibly, and…from her lips escaped the sound in the world that Hannibal ached for and coveted most… a slow, deep inhalation followed by the long, sweet, airy whisper of a sigh she released each and every time he filled her body with his own.

Upon hearing it, Hannibal Lecter's heart soared.

Clarice paused for a moment to enjoy the feel of his body joined within hers…a moment passed and still, she did not move. Hannibal tilted his head, questioning without speaking. She hooked her legs around his hips reached for his shoulders and rolled, turning them both over while they remained joined within. Hannibal was now on top of her. She smiled and whispered.

"Take me."

Hannibal lifted her left leg and bending it at the knee, placed his right arm under it, lifting slightly to allow him more penetration. He leaned up on his left elbow to keep the full weight of his body from her petite frame. He began to move his hips slowly at first, Hannibal's body rising and falling rhythmically using Clarice's own respirations as his metronome. It wouldn't be long before her body demanded more and being ever the gentleman, Hannibal obliged, penetrating deeper within and increasing the speed and the intensity of each thrust.

Clarice lifted her head just slightly. Hannibal read the request and without a word, covered her mouth with his. His kisses were gentle, and tender, his lips softly touching upon hers. Clarice slipped her tongue along the inside of his mouth and ran them across his teeth. He opened his mouth just a slight bit more and captured her bottom lip, sucking on it gently.

Clarice urged him on by increasing the speed of her hips meeting hers. Her breath was quickening.

Of course Hannibal noticed. "Now, my Love?"

A breathy, "Yes, H.", was all she could manage.

Hannibal shifted the angle of his hips, adding to her stimulation. He increased the speed of his movements, and lengthened the stroke, driving deeper within and without. Clarice grabbed for his head, her mouth now hungry, biting, clashing her teeth against his, nipping at his lips and cheeks. As an incisor scraped along the flesh of his chin, Hannibal could smell his own blood.

Quickly approaching the point of his own pleasure he began to drive his body against hers, the now forceful impact causing the headboard of the large bed to strike against the wall.

"Yes… Hannibal… Harder."

He rose up and, taking each of her legs and dropping them bent over his shoulders he reached for the headboard and gripped it tightly. Hannibal arched his strong back and drove his hips into her repeatedly, the sweat from his exertion pouring from his face.

Their gaze locked together, the lovers now lost within themselves and within each other as they silently encouraged one another's passion.

Smelling the arousal in the air and sensing that Clarice balanced just on the edge of climax, Hannibal released the headboard, lowered his head to her breasts, and teased at the peaked flesh, biting gently but holding firmly. He reached for her shoulders, drove deeply within and bit down clamping on the small tip of flesh and holding it between his razor sharp teeth.

Clarice screamed both from the intense sweetness of the pain and from the quaking of her own release. Her body shuddered and trembled as she reached her arms across his back and dug into his flesh.

Again, Hannibal could smell blood.

The sights and sounds of Clarice's release along with the pulsing contractions of her body's orgasm clenching his member drove Hannibal to his own rapture as he entered her repeatedly with a rapid-fire succession of quick, shortened thrusts.

Her own passion now subsiding, Clarice turned her attentions to Hannibal as she grasped his buttocks and pulled him to her tightly. His back arched and every muscle in his body tensed simultaneously then, suddenly, a rolling temblor moved through his muscles, shaking him to his core as he poured the heat of his passion into her body, shuddering with the seismic thunder of his tremulous release. His body in full spasm, he held her tightly, his breath uneven, waiting for the rocking waves of aftershocks to pass. Breathless, he remained on top of her, resting quietly with his face tucked alongside her neck.

He whispered in her ear, the breath subtle across her skin. "Clarice, I love you."

Her response, "I know, Hannibal..I love you too."

He squeezed so tightly that it seemed to her as if trying Hannibal were trying to absorb her being within his own.

They remained quiet in each other's arms for several minutes neither wanting to disturb the peaceful serenity of their bed. This was the place they shared their love, and their laughter. This was the place they slept quietly and held each other. This was the only place in the world where Hannibal ever felt safe. This was the only place in the world where Clarice's dreams were silent.

This was their Heaven. It was about to end.


	12. Chapter 12

**COPYCAT**

The young girl thought to herself that maybe she should close her eyes but that was probably a bit pointless. Instead she began trying to memorize everything she could about his features. He had pale eyes, maybe green. His hair was dark brown and a little on the scraggly side, shoulder length. He was tall probably about six feet, and looked strong, though not bulky. He stared at her intensely.

"Are you frightened?" He asked with very little emotion.

She considered denying her fear, but that seemed foolish. He wouldn't trust her if she lied from the start and she needed him to trust her. That was probably her only chance of surviving. "Sure, I'm scared. I'm tied up…I don't know where I am and you're showing me things that look as if you want to hurt me but I don't know why…I'm scared out of my mind."

"Why? Nothing has happened to you yet?" He said calmly, his eyes unblinking.

"I'm not afraid of what you've done…I'm afraid of what you are going to do."

"Your fear will have very little impact on what I do to you so why waste your energy?"

She thought that if she engaged him in conversation, she might seem less of a threat and maybe, he might change his mind about hurting her. "I can't control that I'm afraid…I just am."

"I'm going back to the house. We'll talk again soon."

"Please can you cover up the instruments? I'm going to have nightmares."

He walked over to the table and covered the tools. He smiled at her and shook his head.

"Is the house far?" She called after him. "I'm afraid to be out here alone."

"Knowing my future intentions…wouldn't you prefer that I leave you alone?"

"I'm just scared."

"I won't be far and you will be locked inside so no one aside from me can get in."

"What if there's a fire or something?"

"There is no need to worry about that. There is a detector that will activate in the event of a fire. There is also a camera that has a live feed. I can see you all the time. The only worry you have is me."

As the man turned to leave, she called after him once more. "My name is Mariyah… Mariyah Bashandi."

"My name is Stuart. See you later, Mariyah." He left the lights on in the container. She was grateful for that. The sound of the metal handle slamming shut was one of the most terrifying sounds she'd ever heard.

Mariyah looked around the metal container. She had gotten quite a bit of information from Stuart, if that was really his name. With all of the posturing, it seemed as if he was more interested in talking than anything else. She decided it would be an intelligent course of action to keep him talking. If he was talking he wouldn't be reaching for those tools and that was what she wanted…him to stay as far away from the objects of torment as possible. She searched for the cameras and found several. She chose the one that seemed to be facing her directly and smiled at it. _Okay psycho…let's be friends!_

**YOUTUBE**

Ardelia was cooking while Lloyd and Logan were bonding over the internet. Lloyd was showing Logan internet sites and the pair roared with laughter. Ardelia thought it was ridiculous. Two grown men laughing over kittens in cardboard boxes, French bulldogs being pushed in swings, babies falling asleep in their dinners and whatever the hell Epic Meal Time is, it was just insane.

They clicked on a link called, "Fat Man Gets Owned."

Ardelia listened for the next rounds of laughter and all she heard was Bowman yell for her.

"Ardelia! Get in here! We have a situation."

She walked into the living room and glanced over at Logan. He was shaking his head, a terrific look of panic spread across his face. "Dee, I didn't know what I was clicking on."

Bowman was hysterical. "Play it again, Logan! Holy shit that was Lecter and Starling! Play that again!"

Logan replayed the video. There, very clearly for the entire world to see was Hannibal Lecter crushing the hand of some fat man and kissing Clarice Starling. Ardelia looked for ways to get around the subject.

"That's not Lecter. Look at the scar on his wrist. He's obviously had a severe injury that has healed. Lecter has had no such injury."

"Well it's been a few months. It could have happened during the escape."

"You can't even see their faces. The person with the camera focused on the fat guy. There is no way it's them. How could you explain all that blood? How can you explain what I saw?"

"What did you actually see, Ardelia?" Bowman asked.

"I opened the bedroom door and Hannibal was standing over her and they were both covered in her blood. He chased me down the stairs and tied me up."

"Yeah why would he tie you up anyway? Why wouldn't he just kill you instead of chancing that you might escape? What was Clarice doing?" Bowman questioned. "She might not have been dead when you saw her. He may have drugged her for the purposes of abducting her.

"She was not responsive and there was blood everywhere...absolutely everywhere."

"You mean she didn't move at all…did you call to her?"

"Jesus Christ, Bowmeister give her a break. She saw her friend dead on a bed with Hannibal the Cannibal standing over her. What do you mean did she call to her? She screamed her fucking head off. Not to mention that I put a damned bullet in his chest! I know he was a creepy fuck but he wasn't a goddamned vampire."

"Let it go, Lloyd. It's not them. She's dead and so is he. This is just a coincidence. Two people that have similar coloring and body types, that's all it is."

Logan sought to support Ardelia. "Yeah look at the way she's grinding on that dude! That's love not some kidnap victim."

"He was in love with her and he was a genius. It wouldn't take much for him to make it look as if he killed Starling. He was also a brilliant psychiatrist. Who knows how much brainwashing he could have subjected her to, not to mention psychotropic drugs."

Ardelia played devil's advocate. "Okay Lloyd, let's say for the sake of argument that he faked it. He faked her death, and he faked his own death. What the hell would he have done with her while he was faking his death? I watched him drag her body out of the house. She was bleeding everywhere. And if he had been able to abduct her, how the hell would he transport her unconscious body? You weave an interesting story but it's just that…a story. I wish it were true because then she would be alive and she would be happy, but it's not true. It's not her…it's not them."

"Did she talk about him a lot?" Lloyd pressed.

"She talked about him all the time. What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Christ, Logan talked about him all the time too but that doesn't mean he wanted to run away with him."

Bowman was nervous and framed his next question carefully. "Okay don't freak out over what I'm about to say and hear me out, Dee. What if Clarice _wanted_ to go with him? We all know that she had a special connection to him. He did for her what he would never have done for anyone else. What if she felt the same way about him? She did save him from the Sardinians. It cost her everything. Maybe she gave it all up willingly. Maybe she loves him."

Ardelia needed to shut Lloyd up and shut him down. "You know what I think, Lloyd? I think _Fuck You!_ That's what I think!"

"Dude…quit while you're ahead." Logan whispered.

"You act like I judging her or something and I'm not. If she returns his feelings, that's no reflection on Clarice. She may have really loved the guy. It was always obvious he loved her. Why is it so hard to believe that she might have wanted to be with him? He's charismatic, intelligent, and he would defend her no matter what. Isn't that what everyone is looking for?"

"Plus the son of a bitch can really cook and Clarice couldn't boil a pot of water." Logan laughed.

Ardelia shot him a sideways glare. _Great, Logan…Encourage the little bastard! _

Logan lowered his eyes penitently. "Sorry, Dee…I know she was your friend. I didn't mean to joke about it. I know how hard it was for you when she died."

"I know it's not enough for a positive identification but it's enough to cast doubt. I think it's them. I think he's still alive and whether or not Clarice wanted to leave with him, I think that's her and she sure as hell looks like she wants to be with him now. If they're alive…We've got to find them."

"Why don't we sit down and enjoy our dinner. You can chase Hannibal's ghost all over the country tomorrow. Tonight, let's just relax and eat. I didn't spend the last four hours making dinner just to toss in down the garbage disposal. "

"C'mon Bowmeister! Let's eat!" Logan encouraged, slapping Lloyd on the back. "Bro Code, you don't leave a buddy when his girlfriend is pissed. It's really bad form, you know?"

"Yeah…it can wait until tomorrow. What's for dinner?"

"Your brains!" Logan joked as he palmed Lloyd's head like a basketball.

Lloyd was initially startled but tried to laugh it off self-consciously. "Yeah, that's very funny, Loganator!"

"You should see your face! That was freaking priceless!" Logan laughed hysterically.

Ardelia shook her head at the pair. "It's a pork roast, Lloyd. I don't do brains."

**THE BEGINNING OF ALL THINGS**

Hannibal was taking the mirror apart in the bedroom when Clarice entered carrying a cup.

"Here you go, H. Drink this."

His nostril's flared. "I don't recall purchasing this, Clarice."

"So? It's good for you. Drink it."

"It has a very different scent. Where did you purchase it."

"I ordered it over the internet. It's called Red Bush."

"Ah yes, Rooibos! It's an Afrikaan blend that is known to be very high in anti-oxidants. Are you trying to look after my health, Clarice?"

"Isn't that my job? I am your wife."

"That you are." He sipped the drink with his hand resting on Clarice's lower back, his thumb stroking the curvature almost absentmindely. "It's quite good."

"Can I ask you a personal question, H?"

"Please, Clarice. There is nothing that would be considered a personal question. We share everything. You may ask me anything without qualifying the question before posing it. I will answer anything you ask at any time."

"Anything, H? Really?"

"Anything, my Love."

"Last night? The way you were before the shower?"

"Yes?"

"You were different outside at the car, when you first got home."

"That was _before_ you slapped your hand across my face, Clarice."

"If I hadn't hit you…you were feeling how?"

"I was feeling much the same way I feel every single time I see you, Clarice. I wanted you. I always want you."

"Would you have made love to me…like that?"

"Probably…Yes, if the opportunity had presented itself. As I remember, you brushed me off."

"Would it be indelicate of me to ask if you'd ever had a woman when you were in that state of mind?"

Hannibal's brow creased. He considered whether or not he should answer. "It would be somewhat indelicate for me to be specific, but, yes, Clarice. I have."

"Was it different?"

Hannibal set the cup on it's saucer, pausing to consider the question.

"Different than what Clarice…please make every effort to be specific. I need to know precisely what information you are seeking."

"Was it different than it is with me?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Of course it was different, Clarice. I am in love with you. You must remember that there has never been an emotional connection to sex for me before you."

"I hear the words but I don't know what you mean."

"Clarice, are you jealous?"

"I'm jealous of every woman you have ever been with that wasn't me."

"Would you be jealous if you found out that I have at one time or another masturbated?"

"That's ridiculous? It isn't even remotely comparable."

"It is the only thing that is comparable. Sex is a primal urge, Clarice. They were merely a means to an end that is all. You are the beginning of all things."

"The next time you find yourself feeling a little primal…I want in, okay?"

"You want me to unleash the Beast for you my Beauty?"

"Don't be such a wise ass, H."

The phone in Clarice's pocket began to ring. Hannibal's eyebrow arched suspiciously. Clarice checked the number. "It's Ardelia! She wasn't due to call for another ten days."

"Answer the phone, Clarice and do not panic until we know what we are dealing with."

Clarice greeted Ardelia, listened carefully, paused and held the phone against her chest.

"H, that video?"

"Yes, Clarice?"

"It was posted online. We have a situation."


	13. Chapter 13

**BOWMAN'S MISSION**

Lloyd's eyes were fixated on his computer monitor. He had watched the video a minimum of seventy- five times. The first part showing the handshake was worthless for identification. The man Bowman believed to be Lecter kept his back to the camera the entire time. The person holding the camera focused almost exclusively on the heavier man's face contorting in agony or the actual grip of the handshake. The handshake did pose an identification problem because of the scar in plain sight on the smaller man's left hand. It was obviously a fairly recent injury as the disfigurement was of a very intense hue. There was no way around that. The second part of the video had a little more detail.

The woman's face was not clearly shown and the man either had his head lowered and tilted to one side or viewed in partial profile. The lighting in the restaurant was dim and the camera used was probably an older cell phone therefore the quality was not good. It could be enhanced somewhat, but there was no getting around the fact that this man, though similar to Lecter physically, seemed to have a very different bearing. After the handshake leading to the kiss, he was relaxed, almost jovial.

Nothing in that exchange seemed like Lecter, though a man in love would have a different demeanor than a man that had been incarcerated for more than eight years. His eyes appeared a very deep shade of blue, not the intense and unsettling maroon Lecter was known for, though contact lenses could account for that. That scar was the conundrum. If the man had not removed his jacket and pushed his sleeves up to shake the larger man's hand, Lloyd would have sworn on a stack of bibles that it was Hannibal Lecter in the video.

_Could you have injured it after you escaped from the Chesapeake, Doctor?_

Lloyd walked into his kitchen to get a glass of iced tea. He rattled the ice back and forth pinging the cubes against the inside the glass. Sipping the tea he paced around his kitchen staring at the phone sitting on the counter.

_Just call him…don't be such a wimp. _

Lloyd argued with himself for fifteen minutes before he picked up the phone and dialed Clint Pearsall.

Pearsall was in bed but rolled over and picked up the receiver on the second ring. His wife, accustomed to the phone ringing all hours of the night, barely stirred.

"Pearsall." He was curt as he massaged the sleep from his eyes.

"Hello, Sir. Lloyd Bowman here, I think I have found some information that may prove Hannibal Lecter is alive and possibly in the company of Clarice Starling. I'd like you to take a look at it if you would."

"For God's sake, Bowman how many times are you going to chase your tail with this?"

"Do you have access to your computer now Sir?"

Pearsall was angry that he had been awakened from a sound sleep in the middle of what was looking to be a very promising dream featuring a very beautiful woman, to thoughts of Hannibal Lecter.

"Are you kidding me, Bowman?"

"Sir, please…I wouldn't call you at this hour if it wasn't something that I felt was important. Do you have access to your computer? I sent you an email with a link I think you should look at."

Pearsall flipped his blanket aside and left his bed with a very large chip on his shoulder. He walked over to his desk, turned on his laptop and logged on to his email. "Okay, I have the link."

"Please watch it, I'll hold. I want to hear your first impressions when you see it."

Pearsall watched the video half-heartedly at first until the woman appeared.

"Jesus Christ…Jesus Christ…Lloyd it looks like Starling!"

"Keep watching Sir…watch what the man does…tell me what you think."

Pearsall's eyes were fixed. His heart was pounding as he watched Hannibal Lecter passionately kiss Clarice Starling. "Holy Shit! That's Lecter!"

"The only obstacle to a true identification is the area of the left arm between the forearm and the hand. There's a very broad scar that seems to wrap around the forearm approximately two inches above the wrist. It looks as though that hand had been severed. Obviously Lecter never presented such an injury."

"Maybe it happened after he escaped. I'll get a bulletin out to the local hospitals. We'll see if anyone was treated in what…the last five or six months for a severe injury to the arm possibly including the possibility of reattachment surgery."

"I would cover Washington, Baltimore and Virginia, just in case. Much further and it would be impossible to travel with that sort of damage…if it even happened in the United States at all."

"Okay Lloyd…It's not a good enough for a positive identification…Lord knows it wouldn't stand up in court but I think it's enough to initiate an investigation. I'll let you run with it. Keep me posted. I'll handle contacting the hospitals. We'll see where this one goes."

"Thank you, Sir. Sorry to have disturbed your sleep."

"No apologies necessary, Lloyd. Well done." Pearsall turned off his computer, put the phone back on the cradle and slipped into bed. His wife lifted her head from the pillow.

"Did I hear you say you saw Hannibal Lecter on the internet?"

"It could be him. It's not conclusive."

"If he is alive…I want the house watched, Clint. He got to our daughter once. He could again."

"He won't come anywhere near us…he isn't stupid. Plus, if he wanted to hurt her he could have. He might be a monster but he's never killed a woman or a child. If anything, I'm more likely to be his target than either of you."

"Can't you just leave well enough alone…If he got away just let him stay there. Don't do anything to draw his attention or his anger."

"I'm not going to do anything to draw the attention of Hannibal Lecter. Bowman is just running down leads. It's probably nothing."

Clint Pearsall rolled onto his side and pulled the covers over his shoulders gathering them tightly around his neck, much like a young child would when attempting to hide from the monsters under the bed.

_Why can't this bastard just die!_

A deep chilling anxiety shuddered through his body. The thought of Hannibal Lecter alive and well was deeply disturbing to Pearsall. Sleep would not find him. Fear would now be his constant companion.

Lloyd placed the receiver back on the cradle, his heart pounding with excitement. He was smiling from ear to ear.

_Hannibal... I know you aren't going to want to see us…but…if we actually do catch up to you, you brilliant son of a bitch… we could really use your help._

**STUART**

Stuart rested on his bed, staring at the small monitor, the only light illuminating his bedroom. He watched intently as Mariyah shifted uncomfortably against her bonds. Her head occasionally rolled from side to side as her body, obviously exhausted but very uncomfortable, desperately sought sleep. Stuart picked up a yellowed copy of the National Tattler. The focus of the story was obvious to anyone reading the banner headline, "Hannibal Lecter and His Lover Clarice: Meet the Cannibal Count's Concubine."

Stuart read the article, the worn copy obviously having been reviewed with regularity.

Shifting his attention to Mariyah, Stuart's hand slipped down the front of his boxers. He moved slowly, his eyes did not waver from the monitor. His release was quick and less than satisfying. Some things are better left to others. He decided to visit the trailer.

**The Cannibal Count**

Hannibal removed the mirror frame from the bedroom and walked outside the home with it. Clarice followed him into the garage. He seemed unconcerned as he placed the broken pieces of the mirror into a large cardboard box.

"Clarice, let us not be dramatic. The video should be considered no more than a minor distraction. Keep in mind that it is by no means evidence of either our existence or our location. I have reviewed the content many, many times and while it may pique the interest of the FBI and may even initiate an investigation, it will not lead anyone to us. The shot of the restaurant is nondescript, the angles that show the pair of us not entirely focused, our faces are partially obstructed and my scar is very, very visible. The scar alone is enough to obviate identification."

His wife stood quietly as he packed away the broken pieces of mirror for safe disposal. Her arms were folded protectively across her chest. "Are you sure there isn't anything they can identify?"

As soon as he finished loading the box, seeing that Clarice was truly distressed, Hannibal put his arms around her and pulled her tightly against his body, kissing her forehead.

"My Love, there is nothing to fear. You must remember that we live in an Orwellian society. You cannot concern yourself with the presence of cameras as there will be absolutely no way for us to avoid them. Our only concern is being certain that we are good neighbors and live our lives quietly."

Hannibal placed an arm around his wife and the pair walked back to the house. She was preoccupied with the information relayed to her by Ardelia. Clarice's FBI training subconsciously kicked in and her mind now worked overtime to process a variety of scenarios considering what her next move would be if she had been assigned lead agent on the case.

"What if they find out where we are?"

Hannibal could see the wheels turning in her mind. He smiled and teased her affectionately.

"Do not overly concern yourself, Ex-Special Agent Starling. If the FBI gets close, Ardelia will provide you with enough advance warning for us to take our leave of this place. Hopefully, that will not be the case, but if it is, know that I am prepared every moment of every day for just such an eventuality. I have several choices of alternate identification for each of us, cash and another set of passports ready at a moment's notice. I have additional travel and financial resources available should the immediate need arise. We will be safe no matter what the FBI's next course of action may be."

Clarice wrapped her arms around Hannibal. She was feeling a bit more secure. "Sometimes I forget this isn't your first rodeo."

"Yes, it is hardly my first, Clarice." He laughed. "Rest assured I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Though it may seem in the past that I had been willing to tempt fate do not forget, I _wanted you_ to catch up to me. If I do not want to be found…we will not be found."

Hannibal opened the door to their home and allowed Clarice to enter first.

"You just said whatever it takes, Hannibal?" She questioned as they walked into the main hallway and Hannibal reactivated their security system. "What did you mean by that?"

"That is precisely what I said and I meant exactly that…I will do whatever it takes to defend you. That is the only time I may be unable to keep my promise to you. You have seen me when I am at my most primal for lack of a better word and though you do not fully understand, I know what I am capable of in that state of consciousness…in that frame of mind. You must be aware that if your safety is threatened, if I perceive any danger to your person, I will act swiftly and decisively I will offer no mercy and absolutely no apology for it. Whether or not you understand, you will be safe and that is my only concern."

"I would understand only if it is to protect us from a direct mortal threat, Hannibal…not for any other reason. I cannot condone being the cause of a standoff or a massive shootout."

"Clarice, as you are well aware I do not carry a gun. The only weapons I possess are my mind, my hands and my Harpy and while I will not attack unprovoked, please keep in mind if your life is threatened in anyway, I will not pause for your approval before I move to act. If I am forced to violence in order to defend you Clarice, with or without your permission, my Harpy will be in my hand and no matter the target…my blade will find its mark."


	14. Chapter 14

**DAMAGE CONTROL**

Ardelia sat in what had been Clarice's basement office. The boards now held the crime scene photos of another serial killer, the Chesapeake Ripper Reincarnate. Headlines from The Tattler surrounded the large lighted board.

We held them back as long as we could. Ardelia mused, certain the Ripper would not be happy with the current headline. There in bold print for the world to see was: **_C.R.R.!__ New killer copies Buffalo Bill and the Tooth Fairy! Can't handle Hannibal!_**

The article wasn't any more flattering, going into great detail that even his name was a rip off of Lecter.

Bowman entered the office they were sharing, circled the room and looked around. "Doesn't it kind of creep you out that Starling isn't here. I mean this is her Lecter Museum. It seems almost sacrilegious to be down here."

Ardelia smiled, imagining Clarice at the desk with her boots propped up, listening to the tapes of Hannibal's interviews with her for hours at a time.

"I don't think it's sacrilegious at all, she would want me to be here."

"It doesn't make you sad?" Lloyd questioned with a true air of concern. "It depresses the hell out of me and I wasn't anywhere near as close to Clarice as you were."

"No, I can feel her presence every time I sit at the desk. She inspires me."

Ardelia had an orgy of evidence spread out over the large conference table where they were organizing the material for their UNSUB profile. "That being said, I wish she was here right now 'cuz this guy baffles me…I just don't get this Lecter fixation. I can't tell if he admires him or hates him or envies him…I don't get his motivation."

"He is definitely driven by _something_ connected to Lecter. When we find out what that is, we will find him." Lloyd looked over the letters. He focused on one in particular. "He's scrawled names in obscure places in very tiny print on all of the letters. Look at this one, it says Stanley I. Stelio. I'm sure this guy isn't dumb enough to identify himself so there must be another reason he places the names on the letters he leaves with the victims."

"He's an attention whore, plain and simple." Ardelia gave the note a cursory glance then immediately shifted her attention to the photos. She had already shipped copies of the evidence to Clarice, hoping that either she or Hannibal would have some insight. She also shipped copies of the press releases from the Post, the Times and the Tattler certain that Hannibal would be amused.

Lloyd reviewed the press clippings. "An attention whore…I like that, and there's definitely something to be said for that or he wouldn't be leaving notes all over the place. He did go out of his way to contact the Tattler."

Ardelia reached for another letter. "Lecter would have never left evidence like this at the scene of any crime."

Lloyd nodded as he looked over Ardelia's shoulder. "Lecter did love to correspond, though. He wrote to Will Graham and to Clarice."

Ardelia disagreed. "He wrote to Will Graham to taunt him. He wrote to Clarice because…"

Lloyd was frustrated. He placed his palms flat on the table, leaned over and looked at Ardelia until she made eye contact with him. His voice was low as if he didn't wish to be overheard.

"Why do you refuse to say it Ardelia? He wrote to Clarice because he _loved_ her…he _still_ loves her and whether or not you want to admit it…_she loves him_. You saw the video. You saw that kiss. They are living somewhere and they are in love with each other and you don't want to admit that it's true."

"Yeah Lloyd, they're living happily ever after. They just bought a house in Las Vegas next to Elvis and Tupac Shakur. I hear Michael Jackson might be moving in across the street." Ardelia tried to throw him off with her sarcasm but where that video was concerned Bowman was like a freaking dog with a bone, making damage control almost impossible.

Ardelia pushed through the notes and searched for more names to confirm whether or not Lloyd was correct. She found the note connected to the very first victim. He was right. There on the back of the letter scrawled in elementary cursive, was the name Chanel B. Ciarlina.

Lloyd looked over another letter. This one required much closer inspection. The letters to this name were not scrawled proudly, as they were on the first letter. The name is written in almost unreadable print, miniscule writing as if the scribe had utilized a brush with a single hair dipped in ink. One could easily have over looked the markings.

"He went to a lot of trouble to hide them after that first note but every one of them has a single name."

Ardelia's interest was definitely heightened. "Do the names have anything in common?"

Lloyd looked over his list. "No, not really… they aren't connected to the victims. Some of the names have been what you would consider traditionally male and some female. They appear to be from a variety of ethnic backgrounds. No, they have nothing in common at all."

"How long do you think we have before he kills the girl? She's been missing for what…a week now?"

"The longest girl he kept was the first one. He had her more than three weeks. The last one he grabbed…only one week. Pearsall is meeting with members of the Justice Department and the White House as well as the representatives from the girl's family. The pressure's on to find her soon. He won't keep her alive forever."

Ardelia checked her notes. "I went over the varied lengths of time he held the girls…there is no pattern to the timing of the captivity, or the duration of it."

She searched for the autopsy reports and continued.

"What the hell does he do with them while he has them? The physical damage to the women is for the most part post mortem. The only evidence of any bodily injury could be considered self-inflicted possibly occurring in an attempt to escape, pulling against whatever material he is using to bind them. There is extensive evidence of bondage; very intricate ligature scarring that suggests he ties them up in a variety of positions. This may include suspension of the body due to the sizes and the position of the bruises."

Bowman tapped his pen to his teeth. "I wish Clarice still sat at that desk. This is where she excelled. I mean she was brilliant but it was much more than that…she was so intuitive."

"That's why she intrigued Lecter. He knew she was his only true threat." Ardelia walked over to the lighted board where Clarice had kept so many images of Hannibal. She ran a hand across the new images as if willing them to change back, willing time itself to change back.

"It wasn't only intuition…she cared. Clarice was the only one who could have caught Lecter because this was all she did…he was all she thought about. It was an obsession… tracking him… finding him. She had so many photos of him here. His eyes staring back at her in the darkness. It was as if he watched over her. As if he demanded her attention. All those months she lived here with the images of him…they became a part of her."

Bowman conceded. "_He_ became a part of her, Ardelia."

**THE PROFILE**

Clarice was excited when the package arrived from Ardelia. She had been expecting it. Hannibal didn't seem as enthusiastic about the process.

"Come on, H. Have a look with me." She urged with an excited tone to her voice. "It'll be just like old times!"

Hannibal glanced at the material quickly, his eyes showing no emotion. "Have your fun, Clarice. I have no interest in participating. I will be at the piano if you have need of me."

Clarice watched Hannibal turn to leave the room. She was confused. He had always been so willing to look over case files and was eager to assist in investigations. His aloof behavior was disconcerting. She called after him. "Are you ill, Hannibal? Can I get you anything?"

Hannibal stopped and quickly turned toward her. His eyes showed a flash of what almost appeared to be anger, but it was more than that. Clarice could not determine what it was, just behind his eyes…it burned. Whatever_ it_ was he was obviously highly agitated by it.

"Clarice, what would make you assume that I was ill? Is it because I do not wish to look at an amateur's crime scene photos and review autopsies? One would think the refusal to look at such things might be a sign of sanity, not of illness."

"You're angry? Why?"

"Angry? So now I'm angry? Why are you attempting to ascribe emotions to me? I wish to play the piano. I do not wish to play _Junior Special Agent_ with you _little Starling_." He answered with a sharp edge to his chilling metallic rasp.

Clarice was enraged at the diminutive and slammed the large envelope on the kitchen table.

"_Little Starling_? Fuck you,_ Doctor_."

Hannibal stared at her for a moment. She believed she saw a flash of regret before his expression turned to stone. Without another word he turned his back to her and left the room.

Clarice waited for a moment and listened for the piano but instead of Hannibal's playing she heard the beeping of the security system being deactivated and the front door very quietly open and close.

He's gone out…where? She immediately regretted her anger. She wanted to go after him but assumed he had already reached the car by now. Clarice walked to the foyer and looked at the large table beside the front door, just under the large gilded mirror. She glanced into the crystal dish where he kept his wallet and keys, both were still present. No car? Already dark and he is on foot…why?

Clarice immediately ran to the bedroom and searched the table on Hannibal's side of the bed.

_The Harpy…it's gone._

Hannibal walked quietly across his property waiting for his eyes to adjust to the moonlight. He could hear movement and considered what might be nearby. A puma was a possibility. A boar more likely, they were intelligent and unafraid. Hannibal Lecter found a quiet spot in a clearing just behind his home, sat cross legged on the ground and closed his eyes, now upwind he waited deeply breathing in the night air, searched the breeze and readied himself for what may come.

Predator now awakened, whatever found him was going to die.

Clarice paced around their home. She was afraid for him. The animals native to the area were dangerous and aggressive and all he had with him was the knife. There were large cats and wild boars, any animal with that kind of speed and power could do a lot of damage in a very short amount of time, Harpy or not.

Clarice was afraid for her husband's safety. She went to the bedroom, slid open the drawer of her nightstand and reached for the .45 Hannibal purchased for her. She tucked the weapon behind her in the waistband of her jeans, quickly put on a pair of boots and a jacket, grabbed a flashlight, locked the home and ventured out to find her husband.

Hannibal could hear the panther rustle in the underbrush. The smell was distinctive, as was the pattern of its breathing. He could feel the rhythm of the animal…its heartbeat pulsing in his ears. Suddenly, Hannibal's eyes shot open, his heart pounded as he jumped to his feet.

_Danger!_

Clarice had her weapon extended, the flashlight balanced on top of the .45 illuminating her sight line.

Hannibal detected her scent before he could see her. He also caught the scent of the panther.

"Clarice!" Hannibal sprinted toward her. He could smell the animal, he could hear it moving. He was certain Clarice could not. "Clarice!" He continued to call out, his muscles burning from the overexertion as he ran full out in her direction.

Clarice spun around, extending the flashlight but lowering her weapon. "H, I'm sorry. Please, come back in the house and we'll talk about it."

"Clarice listen to me…don't make any sudden movements. Stay perfectly still."

_He's afraid…something is near me._

"Hannibal you're scaring me."

As soon as the words left Clarice's mouth, the animal left the ground.


	15. Chapter 15

**BLOODY MURDER**

Knowing there would be but one opportunity to take hold of the animal before it attacked Clarice, Hannibal was desperate to reach her in time. Listening intently he heard his own footfalls striking the loose earth, but on concentrating further eliminated the stimuli to focus solely on the movement of the cat. The precise moment he perceived the shifting sand beneath the cat's large paws he recognized the animal had left the ground. Barely a heartbeat passed after the cat leapt to strike at Clarice. Hannibal held his breath and vaulted, stretching his muscles to the limits of their capacity, his nostrils flaring widely as one quick inhalation would tell him exactly where the animal was in relation to his wife.

_Just over her right shoulder._

He barked his command to her. "Clarice, drop left…Now!"

Her FBI training kicking into high gear, Clarice dropped, tucked her body and rolled to the left, away from the sound of Hannibal's voice. She trusted her husband knowing he was in his element, certain that his highly tuned instincts would tell him exactly where the animal would be.

Hannibal quickly grabbed the beast, wrapped his arms around it and dragged it down with him. The cat let out a screeching growl as the pair slammed on the ground.

Clarice listened, horrified upon hearing Hannibal's deep groans in response to the animal's claws gripping his shoulders. As the cat scrambled Hannibal rolled over quickly, grappling to maintain the physical advantage all the while struggling to avoid the cat's razor sharp teeth. The claws were unavoidable.

Clarice's body hit the ground with an unceremonious thud causing clouds of dust to swirl around her. The impact of the fall forced her head to snap back, her chest to hit the sand and the wind to burst from her lungs.

The weapon dropped from her hand.

"H! The gun! I dropped the gun!"

Hannibal did not answer as he and the cat were attempting to force the other into submission. Thrashing and twisting, each struggling to overpower the other, Hannibal's muscles ached from the exertion but he would give no quarter.

Clarice struggled to see what was happening, though her efforts were futile as her eyes were not accustomed to seeing in limited light. This was one of the predatory gifts Hannibal possessed as he was able to see quite clearly in near darkness; his unusual eyes suited to the muted illumination of moonlight.

Clarice could see flashes of him wrestling with the panther on the ground, clouds of sand and dust erupting from their exertion. Hannibal posted up and as the moonlight glinted across his features, Clarice could see that spark reflecting off the back of his eyes. The flash of that something she had mistaken as anger.

Seeing it now in the moonlight Clarice recognized that it wasn't anything as common as mere anger. His eyes glowing like a tiger, Hannibal appeared otherworldly as the volcanic, unadulterated combustion, both primitive and visceral radiated from his crimson eyes. Clarice could not deny the pre-historic and animalistic nature of it. In this, his natural state he was untamed, savage and raw. Few people had seen his true nature. Clarice was the only one alive who could tell of it.

She had seen only the quickest flash of it when he returned from his trip to the waiter's home. She saw it again when he glanced briefly at the crime scene photos. He could attempt to deny it. He could attempt to repress it but it was obvious that no matter how hard he tried… he could not extinguish it. He could not avoid that primitive glow…the true nature of what dwelled deep within him.

Clarice scrambled on her hands and knees desperate to find the weapon to help her husband. She frantically searched, floating her palms over the surface of the sand in an unsuccessful attempt to find the weapon.

Clarice could hear the impact of Hannibal's body as he collided, mid-air with the mountain lion. The sounds were terrifying. Primordial snarls and growls echoed in the darkness, a deep roar rolled up from his throat as Hannibal's shoulder crashed into the animal and the cat's claws pierced his back.

The cat twisted and kicked in an attempt to liberate itself. The dew claws ripped Hannibal's trousers causing the blood to flow freely down his leg, his tense quadriceps opening to the claws. He forced his right forearm under the chin of the mountain lion, arched his back, rocked his body forward and leaned with all his might stretching the cat's neck thus exposing it.

Hannibal's heart pounded out a deep, slow rhythm, the force of which grew not from fear but rather the rage of adrenaline coursing through his system. Time seemed to wane, every moment, every movement exaggerated. Even the powerfully deliberate thumping of the heart slowed as if being suspended between each beat.

Twisting the cat's body with his powerful frame, Hannibal felt as though he could bend time itself to his will. Adrenaline pouring through his system unchecked he felt a surge of power as he shifted his hips to gain leverage, forcing his weight against the animal's body as drool poured between his shoulders. He could smell the hot breath on his cheek.

_This is fun._

Grasping the animal's flesh Hannibal twisted it to secure his grip. He could feel the muscles ripple beneath the cat's soft fur, the tripping pulse revealing the animal's panic. Hannibal relished the terrified growls of protestation directly roaring in his ears, the vibration of which punched against his ear drum like the baseline of a Wagner piece.

Deciding it would be better to end this situation sooner rather than later, he wrapped his left arm around the puma and reached for his Harpy with his right. The big cat's teeth captured Lecter's skull in its open jaw. Hannibal thumbed the blade open and just as the teeth pressed into his flesh he drove the blade under the cat's jaw and ramming it up and back.

Hannibal growled low and threatening as he forced the hooked tip of the Harpy into the animal's throat. He dragged the blade so deeply that it scraped between the vertebrae as it severed the spinal cord. He did not release the animal's heart pulsed its last.

The large cat was dead.

It had been quite some time since Hannibal had felt so alive.

Clarice could not see what was happening but upon hearing the silence, panicked, not knowing how much damage Hannibal was incurring to save her from the attack.

"H? I lost the flashlight. I don't know what's happening. Talk to me H…please, talk to me!"

"I am fine, Clarice."

Clarice reached blindly. Hannibal could see her quite clearly and took her hand. She could feel the sticky serum covering him.

"Is that your blood or is it blood from the cat?"

"One assumes it to be a combination of both."

"I dropped my gun."

"Not to worry my Love, your weapon will still be here in the morning. I will retrieve it when I return to dispose of the carcass."

Quickly standing, Hannibal helped Clarice to her feet. She placed her arms around him causing Hannibal to flinch. Clarice jumped back and released him. Hannibal reached for her again.

"Please do not concern yourself with my injuries. I need to hold you close to me, Clarice. There is the scent of blood in the air."

"You're hurt."

"Slightly, but much more important to me Clarice is that you are not. Please, come to me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck very loosely so as not to cause him discomfort. Hannibal lifted her and began to carry her in the direction of the house. He could feel her heart pound against his body. "Clarice? Your heart rate is very high."

She placed a comforting hand on his chest and could feel that Hannibal was not similarly affected. "That's because I'm terrified…I can't believe you aren't."

"There are many emotions surging through me Clarice, however fear is not among them." Hannibal lowered his head to hers and began to kiss her rather roughly.

Clarice pulled back from him but Hannibal didn't notice the slight as they had reached the house and he was concentrating on unlocking the door. He pushed through, closed the door and reactivated the security system with his wife still in his arms.

Now in the full light of the foyer, Clarice could see the damage Hannibal incurred very clearly.

"H, put me down…you're dripping in blood. Let me look at you."

He lowered her gently so that she was standing, facing him. Clarice reached up and stroked the side of his face and captured his chin between her thumb and index finger. She turned his chin up and down and from side to side in order to examine his head and both sides of his face. Hannibal allowed the inspection and did not speak. He was staring at Clarice…his wounds were the last thing on his mind.

"You've got gashes everywhere. I think that thing bit the top of your head."

"The animal wasn't exactly a willing participant in the process, Clarice."

"Why did you go out there at night? You know how dangerous it is!"

"It was more dangerous for the animal…" Hannibal mused. "…but far more to the point Clarice…knowing the danger, why did you follow?"

"I thought you might need me…I wanted to help."

"I am not your lamb, Clarice."

"Shut up."

Clarice swept the blood soaked hair back from Hannibal's face. She looked deep into his eyes and saw what she had seen earlier, what she thought had been anger. His eyes were ablaze.

"How do you feel, H?"

"Magnificent." He grabbed Clarice, slipped his hands down the back of her jeans, pulled her against him and kissed her. There was nothing of his usual tenderness toward her in this kiss. It was urgent and aggressive.

Clarice pushed him back. "No."

"Pardon, Clarice…did you just say _no?_"

"You're dripping in blood. It's disgusting."

Hannibal lifted his wife and carried her to the master suite. Seeing the door partially opened, Hannibal snapped a quick front kick and forced the door open wide enough to allow them to enter.

"I apologize, Clarice if my injuries are distasteful to you."

"Put me down!" Clarice struggled against his strength.

Hannibal's wolfish grin illustrated his amusement with her attempts as he carried her into the bathroom, opened the shower door and dropped her into the large stall fully clothed. He quickly spun the faucets forcing the side jets to spray her body and the large shower head to rain down over her. She turned away from the pressure.

Hannibal stepped into the shower and seeing Clarice's back still to him, leaned into her, forced her into the corner and pressed her against the travertine. Blood swirled into the drain as it washed from their clothing and Hannibal's body. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it out of the shower.

Leaning his hips against Clarice he pinned her to the tile wall with his body weight. She struggled against him, but he was far too powerful. He reached for his pocket and found his Harpy.

Hannibal swung his arm and hooked the laces of both their shoes, ripping them open. He kicked his shoes off, reached down and pulled Clarice's legs back one at a time much the way a harrier would check the shoes of a horse. He slipped her shoes off and tossed them out of the shower on the tile alongside his own.

"Turn around, Clarice." He growled in her ear. "I want you."

"No, leave me alone," she warned. "Don't touch me!"

"_Don't touch you,_ Clarice?"

He raised his Harpy and ripped through the fabric of Clarice's blouse. The light cotton gave way easily and as the pieces fell open, Hannibal placed the blade between his teeth and tore the garment from her body. Breathing heavily, he pulled the blade from his lips and pressed the flat of it against her cheek as he whispered huskily in her ear, his desire for her evident as he leaned against her wet skin.

"Will you not give yourself to me, Clarice?"

"Fuck you, H. I'm not giving you a goddamned thing."

"_Fuck me?_ Yes, Clarice that is the intention."

He removed the blade and slipped it smoothly just under the fabric of her bra. He quickly flipped the edge and sliced cleanly through the strap fluidly pulling the lingerie from her upper body.

Clarice's hands flew up and quickly covered her breasts. She could feel his hot, ragged breath coursing against her skin. She sensed him bending low behind her and panicked, unsure of what he was doing.

"H…no."

Hannibal ignored her faint protestation, concentrating on his own pleasure as he lightly trailed the hooked tip of the Harpy's blade from the small of her back, up her spine. He followed the path created by the knife with his mouth, tracing his tongue slowly, tasting the water mixing with her scent, drinking it from the small of her back to the nape of her neck. When he reached her shoulder he could contain his urge no longer and bit into the deltoid muscle softly. Clarice moaned as he began to suck hard at her skin and muscle drawing it into his mouth and causing a welt to rise.

Upon hearing the sound, Hannibal mouthed the knife and grasped at his shirt violently pulling it open, the buttons popping one by one. As the garment tore open Hannibal shredded it from his injured body.

Quickly he opened his belt, dropped his bloodied trousers to the shower floor and stepped out of them.

Clarice shivered as she cornered herself against the tile of the shower.

Reaching around Clarice's waist Hannibal grasped for the button on her jeans attempting to open them. She put her hand over his and prevented his efforts. She could feel the knife in his mouth as he leaned his cheek on her back to allow him more reach.

"Clarice, remove your jeans."

"No."

"_No?_ Very well."

Hannibal hooked the Harpy on the waistband of her jeans and sliced them apart. The merciless claw of the knife shredded the denim with ease. As the pieces fell open, Hannibal ripped them from her body.

Clarice trembled.

Hannibal, the blade again held safely in his teeth, now clad only in his boxers moved his hands aggressively up and down her body, kneading and grasping her flesh as he groaned deep and low vibrating against her neck.

"Face me, Clarice."

The cool water poured freely over them both but seemed to steam as it hit Hannibal, his body radiating heat. Clarice kept her body turned from him. Angered and confused by this denial, he wrapped his forearm across her collarbone and, grasping the opposite shoulder, began to hiss in her ear.

"What are you turning from? _This is what you wanted_…this is _who_ I am. This is _what_ I am, Clarice."

Hannibal grabbed Clarice and pushed on her shoulders forcing her head down. He wrapped his arm around her waist, bent her over, took the Harpy and sliced through the last remnants of her modesty.

He stepped out of his boxers and pressed himself against her.

As Hannibal forced her head lower, Clarice's mind reeled. _What the hell is he doing? _

He leaned into her, pressing himself against her body. "Now, Clarice?"

_If he's going to force me…why is he asking?_

Clarice looked down, saw Hannibal's blood swirling down the drain and realized the gravity of the situation. Not the gravity of the situation she was in…the gravity of the situation that Hannibal had placed himself in…willingly. She turned to face him and looked at the wounds all over his body, leaking blood still. He was panting from want and the adrenalin still surging through his system. His bloodied body was tense and trembling. …he was electrified.

Clarice turned to him, the fear and the trepidation slowly leaving her body. "You said I could ask you anything at any time? Even now?"

"Yes."

"You didn't know I would follow you? You were expecting?"

"I was expecting privacy."

"You knew there were large cats…other predators?"

"Yes."

"You wanted one to find you?"

"Yes."

She reached up and touched the long streaking wound on the side of his bicep currently seeping blood. "Why?"

"Because Clarice, I wished to hunt."

"Why?"

He leaned in and began to kiss her. Again, the kiss was urgent and aggressive. "It is in my nature to do so."

She held up a hand. "You said you would never hurt me."

"What did you just say?" He was becoming agitated, the edge to his voice expressing his frustration as he continued, "Have I injured you, Clarice?"

"No but…I thought…"

"What? You thought what?"

She could feel the blood flush her cheeks.

"That you were going to… rape me."

Hannibal was horrified by her inference. Angered, he raised his voice uncharacteristically. His stance as he leaned against her became even more aggressive. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered low in her ear again using that dark, hissing dungeon voice that chilled her to her core.

"Why would I take that which you offer to me freely, Clarice? If ever again I was _feeling primal_ you asked that I take you. If this frightens you, I will keep this part of me separate from us but do not _ever_ insinuate that I would either injure you or force myself upon you."

Hannibal pulled away, turned from her and began to scrub the blood from his body, wincing as the soap penetrated the wounds.

Clarice felt the burn of shame on her face. She _had _asked that of him, long having been intrigued by his raw power. It frightened her as well as excited her and Clarice spent many a night wondering what it would be like to have him in this way. The prospect of being totally overwhelmed, being totally overtaken by him…of his savage intensity in this state was both thrilling and terrifying.

Clarice reached for his shoulder however Hannibal, still enraged at her suggestion, pulled away.

She reached for him again and tugged at his arm insistently. "Please, H…please."

Hesitantly, Hannibal turned to face her.

Clarice touched his face stroking it gently with the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry…you're right, H… I did ask…and… I do."

"You do what, Clarice? Let us be certain we understand each other. I don't want to be considered a sex offender in my own home."

"I want you…like this…to experience _all _of you…the _real _you."

"Clarice…the adrenalin…the endorphins…I will not restrain myself…it will not be the same."

He placed his hands under her arms and lifted her against the tile, leaning his hips against hers. Hannibal lowered her body slowly, her own weight forcing her downward along his body.

He growled a low deep rumble in the back of his throat.

As he filled her, Clarice gasped.

Hannibal turned and pressed her shoulders against the tile. He reached up and placed her hands around his neck. She laced her fingers and held tightly as Hannibal flattened his palms against the wall of the shower, driving himself forward.

This was not the usual measured passion of their daily coupling. Her own body weight now ballast, Hannibal entered much more deeply than he had ever before, causing Clarice's breath to catch in her throat. Clarice had believed her body had grown accustomed to his, but now realized that Hannibal had considered the petite nature of her body and had not been entering her fully.

The movement of his body took her breath away as he moved, driving them both against the hot tile of the shower wall. Clarice wrapped her legs around his body and lifted herself from his hips to relieve some of the force of his entrance.

Hannibal felt the shift and disallowed it by grabbing her hips and pulling her down as he drove himself deeper within.

"H…Slower."

No answer.

"It's uncomfortable, Hannibal…stop."

Hannibal growled his displeasure conceded. He grabbed Clarice under her bottom for support and pressed a shoulder against the shower door. The door swung open and he lifted her up and pulled himself from her body. He set her down gently just outside the shower.

Sensing his frustration and assuming his withdrawal meant that he was no longer interested in her Clarice turned and reached for her robe from the hook behind the door.

He raised a hand to stop her. "No, Clarice to our bed…for your comfort."

She smiled, grateful for his consideration. "Thanks, H."

She moved quickly to their bed and turned that she might watch him as he came to her.

Hannibal Lecter in his most natural state, naked, fully aroused and unabashed to be so was an impressive sight. Striding confidently toward her, he moved with the strength and elegance of a lion to its mate. Her heart began to race, the heat deep within her burned for want of him.

_I see his True Nature and it is…Magnificent._

**_Until the next chapter, my friends!_**

**_LH_**


	16. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own them and I didn't create them- Thomas Harris is the Man!**

**The only thing I own is my own dark imagination so welcome to my world!**

**CONTACT**

Pearsall hung up the phone and sat at his desk burying his face in his hands. This case was miserable and it was making him even more miserable. Bad enough most of the victims were just teenagers. Did they all have to be girls? In his nightmares his daughter's face replaced the faces of every autopsy photo.

He hung his head, exhausted and anxious as he remembered the horror he felt upon discovering that Hannibal Lecter had been so close to his daughter. He had gotten close enough to touch her. Close enough to pass his Harpy over her tiny throat…but didn't. It seemed to Pearsall that as crazy as everyone believed Lecter to be, Starling had been right…he had rules. Never harm a child…never kill a female.

A man with rules has morals and morals can be appealed to. Maybe he could be reached. Maybe, for the sake of more girls, he might help. He picked up his cell phone and texted Bowman. Lloyd arrived at his office in short notice.

Pearsall waved a hand directing him to sit. Lloyd was curious and moved to the chair without taking his eyes off Pearsall.

"What did you want to see me about?"

"Lloyd, how did the Tooth Fairy correspond with Lecter?"

"He used a book code."

"Published in the Tattler correct?"

"Yes why?"

"If Hannibal Lecter is alive maybe we can contact him."

"That's an intriguing idea but why would he answer? If he is living freely there really isn't anything we could offer him to make him risk that freedom, especially if he has Clarice with him. He might chance contact if he were living alone out of sheer boredom but there isn't anything we have that would make him risk losing her."

Pearsall shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was out of options and time was running out. They were no closer to catching the Ripper than they had been when Mariyah Bashandi was captured. Pearsall was willing to try anything.

"Look this latest abduction is a goddamned international cluster fuck! I've been getting calls all morning from Justice, from the Attorney General, The State Department…Christ, I just hung up from a call with the goddamned Vice President. We've got to find a way to get in this guy's head…if Lecter is alive he may be the only person who can. I want you to get it done, Lloyd. If you can think not only of how we can contact Lecter but what the hell we can offer him I'll pin a freaking medal on your chest myself."

"I might have to get a little unconventional, Sir. How far out of the box should I think on this one?"

Pearsall leaned over his desk and spoke in a serious tone.

"Lloyd if this girl turns up dead the entire wrath of the White House will come crashing down around our heads. Think as far outside the box as you can. Get Mapp on board. We might be able to use her knowledge of Clarice and Hannibal's relationship to figure out whether Starling is with him voluntarily or if the sick son of a bitch kidnapped and brainwashed her. Get me answers Lloyd. It's been ten days and that young girl doesn't have much time left. Are you on board?"

"On board, Sir."

"Great, now get the hell out of here and get Mapp. We need her."

**STUART**

The man who named himself after the Chesapeake Ripper was enraged when he received his latest copy of The National Tattler. The article only contained sections of his manifesto but the references were used in a mocking fashion. He stalked around the house, tossing books and papers, yelling his frustration to the bare walls. This headline read:

_**CHESAPEAKE RIP-OFF REINCARNATE **_

"They don't even get the point! It's all there in black and white as plain as day and these morons can't figure it out. Hell, what do I have to do spell it out for you? Was Lecter the only thinking man in the entire Western Hemisphere?" He took the paper, ripped it to shreds and tossed the pieces everywhere.

Stuart shifted his attention to the girl on the monitor. She was being suspended from the ceiling of the container by a bowline fixed under her arms. Her hands and feet were held down with a series of fisherman's knots lashed to hitch points welded to the base of the container.

Stuart looked at the clock. She had been suspended in that way for more than an hour. Being expeditious and efficient in his self-gratification he had only needed her there for five minutes.

He would have to lower her and feed her soon so he went to the kitchen, grabbed the plate he prepared earlier and tossed it in the microwave. When he was certain that it was heated thoroughly he took the dish outside, the steam rising as the evening air was quite cold. He walked quickly to the metal container she was housed in. Stuart flipped the lock, spun the combination and popped the clasp open.

Mariyah put on her 'best friend face' and smiled widely as he opened the door. She was incredibly uncomfortable and hungry but no matter how unpalatable the food had been, or how uncomfortable she was being tied up, he was showing up and bringing food, so she would smile.

If he was using the ropes, he wasn't using his tools so there was no need to panic unless he put a noose around her neck. She also desperately needed to use the bathroom and although the camper's toilet was not the most pleasant experience it was at minimal, hygienic and preferable squatting over a bucket.

_Amazing what a person can get used to. _

"I'm going to have to use the bathroom soon, Stuart…If you don't mind."

"No problem. I have dinner for you."

"Thanks. You really don't have to tie me up you know. It's not like I can get out of here and you have that camera so…"

"The binding isn't for the purposes of restraint…it…pleases me."

He placed the plate on the small table in the corner. "I'm going to switch to handcuffs so you can feed yourself."

"Can I use the bathroom first? It's been a while."

Stuart slipped one cuff on the girl's hand and untied the fisherman's knot from her right hand. He then loosened the knot from the left hand and brought her wrists together to secure the cuffs. He walked over to the makeshift pulley system she was suspended from and lowered her slowly. He kept her on belay for a moment.

"Test your legs and be sure you can support your weight. I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself."

Mariyah bounced on her toes to make sure her legs would not cramp and could hold her body weight.

"I'm fine, Stuart. Thanks for being so considerate. I appreciate it."

She watched her kidnapper carefully and studied his every move looking for anything that might give her an advantage. He was attracted to her, obvious in the way his eyes burned across her body every time he bound her. So far that was the only advantage she could capitalize on therefore she would be kind and attentive whenever she dealt with him.

He finished lowering Mariyah carefully then led her to the area in the back of the container. She walked quietly beside him and tried to make the process seem natural, almost as if it were welcome to her. She would have him remain calm and hopefully, if he felt secure, he might make a mistake. She was patient. She had to be.

Stuart smiled. "You're not like the other girls."

Mariyah was glad to hear it. The other girls were, after all quite dead.

"Well, I appreciate that you are taking care of me.I am your guest. I don't want to be rude. How am I different? Is that a good thing? Being different from the others?"

Stuart attached one side of the handcuffs to a clasp welded near the toilet. He allowed her one free hand, then moved from behind the screen and spoke to her from a polite distance.

"It's a very good thing. They yelled and complained and did they all beg. You're honest, quiet, and polite. I hate rude people. I hate begging even more. Well, I'll leave you to yourself to give you privacy. I'll be back in ten minutes and you can eat your food."

"Thank you Stuart." Mariyah replied cheerfully.

When the door closed, she sat, leaned forward, exhausted as she crossed her arms and rested her head.

_It's amazing what a person can get used to._

**ON BOARD**

Ardelia and Lloyd had been working such long hours on the Ripper case that Lloyd was at their duplex nightly. Logan didn't mind having Lloyd around all hours of the day and night. It gave him someone to drink beer with, Ardelia had switched to wine.

Lloyd was having trouble keeping up with Logan but he wasn't going to let on. This was the first 'buddy' he'd ever had. Until now, his books and his computer were his friends. The good thing about the computer is that it has an off button. Logan has no such button.

Logan bounded in the room with two bottles hooked between his fingers. He reached out and handed Lloyd a local microbrew. "Try this one, Bowmeister. It's got a lot of flavor to it."

Lloyd tipped back the bottle and suppressed a wince. He actually hated beer but there was no way he would tell Logan that. When his lips left the bottle, he forced a smile. "It's great, Logan. Thanks."

"Anything for you Bowmeister!" Logan walked over to Ardelia and looked over her shoulder.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm trying to figure out what drives him to kill whichever girl he has just to go look for another one. I mean if you've already got one…why chance capture to grab another. I guess they did something to piss him off!" She rubbed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to look at something other than the report she had been staring at for ten days straight. "Jesus this is frustrating."

Logan rubbed Ardelia's shoulders, laughing at her comment. "Well, Dee… I guess it's better to be pissed off than pissed on!"

Bowman laughed at the comment as he circled dates on a calendar. "There's virtually no mathematical pattern. It doesn't follow the lunar cycle either. It must be something the woman are either doing or not doing that drives him to it. That would make it almost impossible to predict. Anyone have an idea what the girl's menstrual cycles were at the time he killed them?"

Logan held up a hand. "Just a head's up my friend…don't mention PMS as a possible motive or my lovely lady with the exceedingly unstable hormone levels will rip your head off."

Ardelia rolled her eyes. "Shut the hell up, Logan. And to answer your question, some were menstruating at the time of their death some were not. I doubt that had any impact. They were provided with the necessary sanitary items so he had taken that into consideration."

"The Ripper buys them pads? Now I've heard it all! I'm going to watch football. You two have fun talking about tampons." Logan plopped himself on the couch and flipped on the television.

Ardelia looked up at Lloyd and winked at him knowingly. "You can pour that beer out now, Bowman."

Lloyd smiled as he walked over to the sink and poured the beer down the drain. "Thanks, Dee. I didn't want to look like a wimp."

"Not to worry, I won't out you."

Lloyd sat back down at the kitchen table and pushed through the paperwork he was reviewing. "I had a quick meeting with Pearsall when you were on the phone with D.C.P.D. this afternoon."

"I'm sure he was having a heart attack. D.C.P.D. is getting leaned on quite a bit. White House is involved so everyone is freaking out."

"Yeah, the Vice President had Pearsall on the phone this afternoon."

Ardelia smiled at the thought. "He must have been shitting kittens! I would kill to have seen him squirm."

"He wants us to try and contact Lecter."

"Lloyd, please tell me you didn't show that moron the video."

"Yeah, I did, Dee."

"Okay so let's assume that Lecter is alive and well and he has Clarice with him. Why the hell does Pearsall think Lecter would want to talk to him anyway? So he can toss him back in his dungeon and throw away the key? Lecter might be considered a sociopath by some but unless he has suffered some recent brain damage, he isn't goddamned retarded."

"Pearsall doesn't want to talk to Lecter…he's scared shitless of him. He wants _us_ to try and contact him."

"And how the hell are we supposed to do that?"

"We post a notice in publications we know he reads…the Tattler, the Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, any periodical that he has followed in the past."

"And what the hell in the world do we have to offer him?'

"That's what we have to figure out."

**ACCEPTANCE**

Clarice was not surprised when Hannibal slept past his usual time. He had never been a morning person and the night before had been the most eventful evening of their marriage. It was three a.m. by the time she had cleaned all of the gashes on his body and covered them. He insisted on changing and laundering the sheets before retiring. He didn't want his blood to stain them and it would have been distasteful in the extreme to sleep on blood covered sheets.

Clarice remained in bed for more than an hour after waking. It was the first time she had risen before Hannibal and she made excellent use of her time. Clarice touched her hand to his chest lightly moving her fingers through the soft curls of hair. She studied his features surprised at how gentle he appeared with his eyes closed, knowing that as soon as he opened them, his countenance would radiate intensity.

Here, sleeping, she could imagine what he looked like as a small boy, so peaceful and relaxed. His inhalations were deep, his exhalations prolonged. Hannibal was quiet in his sleep, moving very little. Clarice believed that it was because he had spent so many years on that small metal cot the mercy of Chilton. There had been so many years, without the slightest comfort, often times no blanket or mattress, not even a toilet seat. Clarice brushed an errant hair from his brow. His comfort now was a comfort to her. She whispered to him, so softly, so quietly…careful not to wake him.

"I love you, Hannibal Lecter…I've always loved you."

Hannibal stirred at the sound of her voice and shifted in his sleep onto his side, now facing her. She moved closer, feeling his breath move across her cheek. Even in his sleep, he had an air of royalty about him.

_Count Hannibal Lecter the Eighth… even your name is regal. _

Clarice snuggled against him, just for a moment, kissed his lips and slipped her hand under the sheet. She ran her hand across his stomach over his hip and down just brushing his length with her fingertips. She kissed him again, smiling as she remembered their earlier joining and slipped quietly out of bed.

Hannibal held his breath until he was certain she left their suite. He almost gave himself away when she reached below the sheet. Had the contact been more than cursory he would have been unable to control himself.

_Clarice, I love you as well…I've always loved you._

It was eight a.m. and Hannibal was exhausted. He pulled the sheet over his shoulder and closed his eyes to thoughts of her.

It was ten a.m. when Clarice heard him stir.

She had gotten up early to review the files from the Ripper case. If only she could get Hannibal's advice. Though seeing his reaction to the photos, for his sake, she wasn't certain involving him would be a prudent idea.

Hannibal entered the room fully dressed and kissed Clarice on the top of the head. "Good morning, my Love."

"Hey, H. How do you feel?" She asked as she concentrated on the case file.

"Invigorated…like a new man."

She reached for him and ran a hand across his stomach, over his hip, running her fingertips down along the zipper of his trousers.

Hannibal smiled, recognizing she was tracing the same pattern over his body that her hand had made earlier in bed.

"I am enjoying _what_ you are feeling Clarice but would like to know _how_ you are feeling."

"I'll admit to being a bit sore, but very, very, content. You are an impressive man, Hannibal Lecter."

"You inspire me to be so."

Clarice watched Hannibal's eyes carefully to see whether or not he would glance at the file. He did not. "Would you prefer me to clear this material from the table?"

"No, that is not necessary." He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at one of the tall stools in front of the long granite counter top, keeping his back to Clarice.

Clarice contemplated closing the file. She considered mailing it back to Ardelia and forget that girls were dying. She may not be carrying a badge from the FBI but in her heart...she knew what was right. If there was any way to stop him from killing another girl, she would do it. That didn't mean she had to involve Hannibal. Not if it would hurt him. She wouldn't do anything to hurt him. She wanted him to know that. She needed him to know.

"Can we talk about it, H?"

"Talk about what, Clarice?"

She closed the file, walked to him and smoothed a comforting hand across the breadth of his shoulders. "Can we talk about the look that came over your eyes when you saw the crime scene photos. What drove you outside in the dead of night?"

Hannibal spun the stool to face Clarice, pulled her body between his legs and held her closely to him. He was well aware of the glow his eyes took on when he thought of such things...when he saw such things...when he did such things. He had never intended for her to see that look. He had hoped she hadn't noticed.

_It's no wonder she was afraid of me. _

He kissed her tenderly.

"My eyes are unusual in more ways than the color of my irises, Clarice. In very low light they dilate much wider than most. This unusual ability combined with color, give the appearance…well, they tend to glow. I apologize. I should have warned you of that tendency. Did it frighten you?"

"A little at first, don't forget we haven't been married long. I'm still getting to know you, H. Not to mention that you're an unusual and very complex individual. You're not like any other man I have met."

"I am not _like_ any other man." He wrapped his arms around her. "You wanted me to look over your file. Do you understand why I hesitate to do so?"

"I believe it's because you're trying to deny your nature."

"Yes, Clarice but do you know why?"

"You think that it will frighten me…you believe that I won't understand that part of you."

"And by extension?"

"That I wouldn't…"

"Make an effort to answer honestly."

"…that I wouldn't…love you anymore."

"It is a reasonable inference."

"No, it isn't a reasonable inference. Knowing you doesn't make me love you less. It makes me love you more. I want to know _all_ of you but that's not easy because you're accustomed to living a solitary life and emotionally you're unbelievably closed off."

"Not as closed off as once I was, my Love."

"True and last night I will admit, before I understood what was happening…I was frightened. Not _of _you…I was frightened _for_ you. Just help me understand. I am already hopelessly in love with you. After last night…you should know that."

"Last night was wonderful, Clarice. I am quite touched you allowed me that."

"You still don't get it do you H? I didn't _allow_ it…I am not _tolerating_ your behavior. I welcomed it. I _wanted _it. You have to understand that I fully accept you as you are…your most unreserved…your most natural state. I am in love with you… all of you…the _real_ you and nothing will ever change that…I will never stop loving you."

Hannibal closed his eyes and sighed deeply, holding his wife tightly to him.

"Clarice you are a wondrous puzzle to me, a constant surprise, and the only woman who has ever taken my breath away. Know that I will never stop loving you."

Hannibal prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"If you are certain you can handle this, Clarice… show me your case file and I'll tell you what I think."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	17. Chapter 17

**THE CASE FILE**

Hannibal sat at the antique Italian burled walnut table directly across from Clarice. He was filled with trepidation but would not show his apprehension to his spouse. No, that just wouldn't do. He remained very still, revealing nothing of his inner turmoil to Clarice as she slipped the file across the table to him.

Clarice too was filled with a certain level of fear. It was almost as if in the transfer of the case file, she had passed a death warrant to him. The material was filled with ghastly images of destruction and mutilation, images very far removed from the life they were sharing. Images that she wished to keep from him but knew she could not. Even if she could avoid revealing to him the photos contained within the file, Clarice knew there were times he could not avoid the violent visages burned into his own memory. She understood his struggle and she was afraid for him.

He reached for, but paused before accepting the material. Hannibal allowed his palm to hover above the file before touching it briefly with his fingertips as if testing the surface heat of it. He then pulled it to him, opened it slowly and began to read.

Clarice watched his eyes ignite as they fell upon the photos. It was as if she were intruding on a moment that should be solitary and as such not appropriate for her to observe.

"Do you want privacy, H?" She asked quietly so as not to disturb the quiet intensity in his expression.

He did not blink nor did his eyes shift from the evidence, tracking at an extremely high rate of speed. "It is a matter of your own comfort, Clarice. I have no need of such."

Clarice paused for a moment considering what would provide him with the most solace, her presence or her absence. She didn't want Hannibal to struggle with his inner demons alone, conversely she didn't want him to perceive that he was being observed or judged. Though she was certain he would not request solitude, it would be best if he were free of intrusion. She had all but convinced herself of such.

_There are some things a man has to do alone. Especially this man…especially this thing. _

"I'm going to go for a quick run. You don't need me hovering over you like a mother hen. I'll be about an hour, okay H?"

He did not acknowledge her statement, though she was certain he heard it. The rising conflagration in Hannibal's glowing maroon eyes were focused on the photos of the crime scenes. He was rage.

"They are all children, Clarice?"

"Young adults."

"And they are all female?"

"Yes, all women."

She could see the immolation in his eyes.

"You reviewed the UNSUB profile. Have you seen the name this presumptuous parasite has chosen?"

"Yeah, H… He named himself after you." Knowing this reference would cause him pain she stood beside him rubbing his back.

He noticed her concern and sought to reassure. "I am fine, Clarice. Enjoy your run. This dullard isn't very clever. Rest assured I will not be long."

"If you're sure…I'll be back in an hour. If you need me, I have my cell."

"Mind that you are careful, Clarice."

"I will be H. Thank you for doing this for me. I know that it's…difficult."

"You do not need to thank me my Love. There is not a thing in this world I would ever deny you."

Clarice left him to the flurry of emotions he was experiencing. He would need to be alone. This was not only a private matter, from the look in his eyes when he read that name… this was going to be an intensely personal matter as well.

Clarice walked outside and took a deep breath, letting it out very slowly. She had never before considered the ramifications of handing her husband a case file. She had seen many that included vicious crime scenes and she had become somewhat desensitized to it.

Hannibal's crimes in fact were savage, but on some level, justifiable in her eyes. This was gruesome as they were all so young and the post- mortem damage to the bodies had been grisly. Clarice shuddered at Hannibal's reaction, at the flaming rage she saw within him.

She needed reassurance and Hannibal would not be able to provide it. Before her run she placed a quick call to Ardelia. Her friend answered the protected cell phone on the first ring.

"Hey Clarice is everything okay?" There was concern in her voice every time Clarice called until she learned of the nature of the contact.

Clarice did not attempt to mask the concern in her own voice. She needed a friend. Even one located several thousand miles away. "So far everything is fine, Delia but I'm a little worried…He's got the case file."

"You've gotta be kidding me! I thought he refused?"

Clarice scuffed her sneakers along the ground. "He was just worried about how I would react. He's trying really hard to be…to be…"

Ardelia understood. "Normal?"

"Yeah…I guess." The morning was warm, the sun beaming on her cheeks, a light breeze buffering the heat, but there was little comfort in it for her.

"Clarice, why would he want to be normal? He's got that extraordinary mind. If he were normal…you wouldn't love him. Normal would bore you. It's because he's extraordinary that you're in love with him."

Ardelia's words were sincere and it was a factual statement. She loved him because he was different. She loved him because there had never been another like him. He was unique and unpredictable but at this moment, his unpredictable nature as well as his recent actions were cause for concern.

Clarice pressed the phone to her cheek as if it would bring her closer to her friend. "True, but being extraordinary makes it hard for him to blend in. He just wants to live his life but he's been struggling lately. I'm worried this will take him to a place he has been trying not to go. I don't want to push him to a point where he has a setback. He's made so much progress in such a short amount of time. You should have seen his eyes. I'm afraid for him."

"What do you mean he's been struggling? He hasn't hurt you has he because I'll be on the next plane down there and I'll bust a cap in his cannibal ass if he has."

"No, he would never. Actually he's the injured one. He got pretty gashed up protecting me last night."

"Protecting you from what?"

"A mountain lion…he killed it with his bare hands and his Harpy."

"Jesus…what the hell does it take to do that?"

"The crazy thing is…I think he enjoyed it. That's what scares me about this. I'm afraid for him."

"I don't think you need to be afraid for a man that can kill a goddamned mountain lion with a freaking pocket knife, do you? He's a big boy, Clarice. If he didn't want to read it, he wouldn't be reading it. Pearsall's convinced your hubby is alive and well and wants Hannibal's help. He wants us to make him an offer he can't refuse."

"What the hell would Hannibal want from Pearsall?" Clarice laughed.

"Who the hell knows, but Lloyd is researching so I guess we'll find out soon enough."

Clarice started to stretch her muscles, leaning on Hannibal's car as she spoke. "How were they planning to contact us?"

"Publication, they want to use coded ads in periodicals to get his attention."

"Hannibal hasn't been reading any newspapers. He's actually been trying really hard to avoid this sort of thing. That's why I've been a little freaked out and feeling kind of guilty to ask him about it."

"Don't worry, Clarice. There isn't anything in this world that Hannibal would do to make him risk losing you. You two have a good thing going. It isn't going to end because some little poser up here names himself after Hannibal."

"You didn't see the look in his eyes when he saw that name. I probably should have warned him."

"He isn't as delicate as you think, Clarice. I mean he lived a lot of years before you came along."

Clarice sat on the hood of the car, hanging her head low for a moment just realizing what she asked him to do…what she asked him to face.

"No Ardelia, he hadn't lived one moment until I came along…and neither did I. I'll let you know what he comes up with."

"Talk to you later, Clarice. Tell your hubby Logan says hello. He's driving me crazy up here."

"I'll tell him!"

Clarice moved away from the car, pocketed the cell phone but hesitated, wondering whether or not she should go back into the house. _Maybe I'll just sit beside him for moral support._

Clarice's inner dialogue was as conflicted as she was.

_No…he doesn't need a babysitter. That would be more for my needs than for his. I have to leave him alone and not worry so much. God knows he's a big boy and if he wanted me there he would have told me. An hour isn't such a long time. He said he'll be fine and I have to trust him._

Clarice mused at the thought.

_God knows, huh?_ After a moment of seriously considering the thought she concurred._ Yes… God knows Hannibal Lecter…because he guided him to me._

Clarice resolved herself to trust her husband thus she started her run. She would skirt the edge of their compound, it being large enough to run for hours without straying from the property. She was always a little wary leaving Hannibal, their runs the only time they were without one another.

Hannibal preferred to run late at night, oftentimes when Clarice was sleeping. The solitude and privacy afforded him during such times was coveted. Practically nocturnal by nature he was often quite active into the overnight hours as he did not require much sleep. In this way, he had the time alone he required without infringing on time spent with his wife.

Clarice returned within the hour, sweating profusely as much from her fear as from the exertion of her exercise. She was still very nervous as she reached for the latch on the front door, terrified that he might be upset and very concerned at the state of mind in which she might find him. She was surprised when, upon opening the door and stepping into the foyer she could clearly hear Hannibal at his piano.

She walked quickly into the kitchen to see the case file closed and Hannibal's meticulous copperplate scrolled on a pad beside the file. There were only two words.

_**HE COVETS.**_

Clarice opened the folder and looked for any additional writing from Hannibal. There on each of the copies of the Ripper's notes just next to the tiny printed name were paired names written by Hannibal.

Stanley I. Stelio- _Tristan & Isolde_ Julio E. Morte- _Romeo & Juliet_

Alanis H. Pere'- _Paris & Helen_ France H. Gusett- _Faust & Gretchen_

Giovanne Celleture- _Lancelot & Guinevere_ Arimus P. Bethys- _Pyramus & Thisbe_

Danica Bettere- _Dante & Beatrice_ Chanel B. Ciarlina- _Hannibal & Clarice_

Clarice sat at the table awestruck not only at the fact that he was able to process the material and solve the clue that she, Ardelia and Bowman could not, but at the level of decoding skills necessary to do so in less than an hour.

_How the hell can he achieve this level of pattern recognition and conversion in such limited time frame? And why the hell did the Ripper include us… Hannibal and Clarice… What the hell?_

Seeing her name joined with Hannibal's in black and white included in the evidence of a serial killer was disturbing. Somehow being linked to Hannibal never frightened her. No matter what anyone else believed about their relationship, it was built, from their very first interaction, on a certain level of trust and respect. She did not have that same frame of reference with this individual. Their names in his world disturbed her.

Clarice opened her lap top quickly and emailed the information to Ardelia. Within two minutes Ardelia messaged her back with only six words.

_Your husband is a fucking genius! _

Clarice messaged her back quickly._ Keep it under wraps until I get more information._

The response from Ardelia was almost instantaneous_. Okay see what else you can find out._

Clarice closed the lap top and paced back and forth in the kitchen. She wanted to interrupt his playing and ask the questions that were pouring into her mind but she thought better of it.

_Leave him to calm. If he wanted to talk about it he would have remained. Let him leave this behind._

Hannibal sat quietly at the piano_._ He was working on Mussorgsky, Pictures at an Exhibition. He was about to reach the Great Gate of Kiev when suddenly and without reason he stopped.

Searing, molten, red hot anger filled his mind and crashed against his ears. Unabated blood poured through his memory palace, the sticky serum seeping beneath the locked doors where large red puddles fomented. His ears filled with screams. He could feel the warm metallic taste of memory, the feeling of his teeth tearing flesh.

Hannibal was alone with his thoughts.

Clarice was alone with Hannibal.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	18. Chapter 18

**AFTERMATH**

Ardelia stared at the email Clarice sent incredulous that the names, which appeared on the surface to be viable identities were actual anagrams. She researched each of the paired names Hannibal had identified.

_That brilliant son of a bitch…we would have never found this. How did he see this so quickly?_

Ardelia processed all of the information Clarice forwarded. She researched each couple. Forbidden or star crossed lovers each pair being either a couple from history or from classic works of fiction; all considered to be great and or tragic love stories. Hannibal and Clarice were the only contemporary references.

_First principles…simplicity, Hannibal wrote 'He Covets'. He covets what? Women…he covets couples…lovers? This twisted bastard can't actually think he's going to find a girlfriend this way? Although indirectly, I guess that's how Hannibal found …No way…Hannibal and Clarice! He's looking for his Clarice._

Ardelia sat down and composed an email for Clarice with questions to ask Hannibal. She was not expecting an immediate answer. Clarice's last email told her that Hannibal was spending some time alone after reading the case file.

_It must be hard being so brilliant, but so damaged…that must be really hard. At least now he has Clarice to help him._

She hit send, gathered her files and left to meet up with Logan.

_He already thinks Lecter is a god! He'll die when he hears how fast he solved that clue._

**UNLOCKED**

Clarice became very concerned when she realized that Hannibal had stopped playing the piano. She waited patiently, hoping he was searching for another selection. After five minutes passed without event she decided to listen at the door. She walked softly through the kitchen and into the hallway, stopping just outside the music room.

The door remained closed. Hannibal heard the movement yet remained silent.

_You know I'm here. Why don't you say something to me H?_

He was of course, aware of her presence, but he did not call for her. She touched a hand on the door, paused for a moment giving him the opportunity to speak. She strained to detect any movement, any response, but none would follow.

Hannibal lifted his head up the moment he sensed her presence but he was careful not to respond. He would not face his wife when he was feeling less than stable. After that night in the bedroom when he broke the mirror and punched holes in the walls he believed she would be prudent and not approach him.

She placed a kiss on the door, as if touching it to his lips, patted the spot gently, turned and left him alone.

Hannibal could hear the whisper of contact. His heart ached but he did not trust himself to go to her. The anger still white hot, burned in the center of his chest the hollow of it so empty that he felt his ribs might cave. There was no room for love. No room yet for Clarice.

_Not now. Not yet._

He left the piano and moved to sit on the oversized leather couch just beneath the built in bookshelves. He sat quietly, lowered his head, laced his fingers, rested them on the back of his neck, and pulled his head down until his chin pressed against his chest. Hannibal rested his elbows on his knees; his mind swirled with a tornado of images, each more savage than the other.

_He kills females… young women. An Impotent animal much like his father. He needs to suffer. _

Hooked metal ripping tendons, limbs grasping, shredding, muscles twitching, tearing, blood foaming, gurgling he imagined what he would do if he had him. He would crush the life from him and sleep all the better for having done it.

He concentrated on his breathing and his pulse, managing to slow each. His heart rate was steady. The adrenalin posed the most pressing problem. During his so called crimes he allowed his adrenaline to flow freely having had little need to limit its production or monitor its output.

The massive surges of adrenaline had been a tremendous predatory advantage. He was able to tap into strength and speed belying his sleek frame. Not to mention the thrill of the hunt it provided him with. He had enjoyed the rush of it and never had cause to concern himself with it prior to his relationship with Clarice. The problem being, what gave him tremendous advantage as a predator was proving to be a distinct disadvantage as a husband.

He needed to find a way to work through this without compromising Clarice's happiness or her safety. If he was going to remain by her side, he must be able to control this process. He could not chance that he might harm her. She was a fighter and that made her dangerous to be around when he was feeling less than in full control.

Hannibal's brilliant mind returned to the Ripper, spinning with scenarios he found himself glad that he was not in the United States. He thought it better that the temptation of reaching this miscreant was removed from him. He would not chance losing Clarice for this man…for any man. Still the thought of slipping his Harpy between the ribs of this depraved individual and piercing his villainous heart was tempting to say the least.

_It is better I am not near… that I cannot reach you. Name yourself for me because you believe I am dead. You'll soon wish for death. I know who you are… Stuart…if I am given the chance you will die the same pathetic death as your father. You will pray for death on your hands and knees as he did._

Hannibal closed his eyes, unlocked his memories and allowed himself the pleasure of reliving the death of Stuart's father, clearly remembering his eyes wide with terror, rolling back in his head as he choked out his last breath. Hannibal was actually quite bored and it amused him greatly at the time. He believed Stuart's death would amuse him at least as much, because he murdered girls…maybe more.

_Clarice would not understand. Though… if he told her about Stuart's father… she might._

Worried about Hannibal, Clarice padded quietly around the house trying to keep occupied with the chores of the day. She believed he remained separate from her because he was worried about his reaction to the file. Remembering the night he broke the mirror, she recalled how quickly he calmed when she held him. She believed it might work again.

Clarice decided that she would wait just a little longer, but not too long, an hour at most. He was suffering, she was the cause of it and she would not leave him alone to it indefinitely. No matter what that meant for her. If he needed to rage…she would let him rage, but she would not allow him endure this level of distress alone.

Hannibal listened for Clarice as she moved through the house. He wanted her. When she paused at the door again, he was curious as to what she would do. He would not call to her although everything in him wanted to say her name.

_Clarice…_

Her scent was heavy in the air. He breathed deeply, sighed and waited.

_Still there Clarice… Why? _

He was surprised by her continued presence. He would be more surprised when she spoke. Clarice whispered very softly to the closed door.

"H? You said there were no locked doors between us."

_Brave Clarice._

He held his breath. The thought of death surrounded him.

_I want you but… you shouldn't be here._

His heart pounded a slow thumping beat. He took a deep breath and gathered the words he had spoken to her before.

"It is not locked, Clarice. It is merely closed."

She touched the door. "Closed to _me_?"

"_Clarice_…" Just her name but said in a way that showed his tremendous need for her in a way obvious only to her.

"I know, H… I know…"

He did not speak. He needed her. He wanted her. He would not call for her. Blood filled his eyes. He was afraid to be with her but equally afraid to be without her.

_She must choose._

Clarice waited patiently for a response but upon receiving none, and never a woman to play it safe, she decided she had to chance it.

_He will never ask for help. He doesn't know how to._

She was sick to her stomach that he was alone and Clarice would stand for it no more. Consequences be damned, he would know that she cared. Holding her breath, she opened the door slowly and stepped into the darkened room.

Her husband was on the couch, his head remained down, careful to hide his glowing eyes, unmoving. Clarice walked very slowly across the room, her eyes never leaving him. He did not react.

She sat beside him but did not move to touch, instead sitting very quietly listening to Hannibal breathe. It was slow and steady. Several minutes passed before she reached out to him. It was a tentative touch at first, just a tender hand she gently rested on his left shoulder. Her hand remained quietly in place for several minutes.

When Hannibal did not react negatively, Clarice allowed her hand to slide across his back to reach his right shoulder. Again, she waited. Hannibal leaned into her slightly. She could feel the deep thump of his slowing heartbeat. His only response was a deep, ragged, inhalation followed by a long, straining exhalation.

_Don't fight me, H._

Her arm remained in place as she waited, again allowing several minutes to pass.

Hannibal sat with his head down and his fingers still tightly laced, pulling his head down, locked tightly within himself leaning slightly into his wife.

Finally, Clarice reached her left hand across the front of Hannibal's body and gripped his shoulder. "I trust you, Hannibal… please…trust me."

She felt a shudder move through his body.

"My Love…"

She pulled him into her arms, his head still covered.

"Shhhhhhh…Trust, H."

Hannibal's body trembled slightly as he rested his head on her breasts. The rhythm of her heartbeat and the pattern of her breathing calmed him. Clarice held him quietly and gently stroked his hair back from his face. She placed light kisses on his forehead.

His hands dropped. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around his wife and held her tightly. All he could manage was her name.

"Clarice..."

"I've got you, H. I've got you. I'm here…I won't leave you."

She held him for hours, neither of them moving, each clinging to the other, his need her only concern.

As the setting sun filtered into the room, the deep colors of twilight radiated through the blinds, Hannibal Lecter woke with his head resting on his wife's stomach, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. They had stretched out quite comfortably on the large couch, but the bed would be infinitely more accommodating to their needs.

Hannibal stood and lifted Clarice. She draped her arms around his neck and allowed him to carry her to the bedroom. He set her on the bed and took his place at her side. Clarice looked into his eyes for the fearful volcanic glow. It had now been replaced by the familiar maroon with a tinge of warmth.

"How do you feel, H?"

He winked at her and flashed an impish grin. "I feel with my hands Clarice."

"Is that an offer or a statement of fact?"

"An offer, if you are interested."

"Hell, I'm interested, H…very, very interested."

**THE OFFER **

Ardelia had been sound asleep when she heard the phone ring. Logan answered it on the second ring. He had been playing video games and was trying to make sure not to wake Dee.

"It's your dime, your time." It was Logan's traditional way to answer the phone.

"What?" Bowman answered unsure of what was just said.

"Is that you, Bowmeister?" Logan cheered.

"Yeah, hey Loganator, is Dee still up?"

"No, she went to sleep right after… umm, no she's sleeping."

"I need you to go and wake her up."

"Dude, this is not cool! She's a beast when someone wakes her up."

"Logan it's about Lecter. Wake her up and tell her I know what we can offer him."

"I'll bring her the phone that way if she loses it- you get blame, not me. Hang on."

Logan went to the bedroom and stood beside Ardelia.

"Dee, wake up. Bowmeister's on the phone. Says he has something you can offer Hannibal."

Ardelia sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She took the phone and waved Logan away. He left the room quickly, thrilled that he dodged her anger.

"Go, Bowman and this better be good."

"Got your cell nearby? Check what I sent you."

"Okay, hang on." She placed the home phone on her pillow and reached for her cell.

Ardelia tapped at her phone and read the information Lloyd forwarded.

"Holy Shit!" She yelled out loud. She dropped the cell and grabbed her home phone.

"Lloyd, are you kidding me? Is that even possible?"

"It's been done before. You could make a strong argument that Lecter deserves it. Between helping Graham with the Hobbs and Dolarhyde cases and working with Clarice to catch Gumb, he's helped us save a lot of lives…especially if he can bring the Bashandi girl home."

"Lloyd, if this works, you're a miracle worker."

"If this works…I want to be the first person to shake Lecter's hand when he lands at Dulles."

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	19. Chapter 19

**TRUST**

Hannibal rolled over, and realized with the growling of his stomach, that in all the turmoil of the previous day, he had not eaten. He roused Clarice, sleeping soundly with her head resting on his chest.

"Clarice? Did you eat at all yesterday?"

She sat up and thought for a moment. "You know…I'm not really sure. I am starving though."

"What would you like me to prepare?"

Clarice rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes. "I'm exhausted…I'll eat anything."

Hannibal began to massage her back. "_Anything_ Clarice?"

"Don't be a wise ass, H. I said _anything_…not _anyone_, got it?"

Hannibal patted her backside affectionately and laughed. "Nothing so exotic my Love no need for you to worry. There is nothing of the sort in our pantry, although if we were in the States, I might be tempted to pay an acquaintance a visit."

"Are you talking about the Ripper? Do you know who he is?"

"One has an idea, Clarice." Hannibal sat up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He was relaxed and stretched his body, emitting a long, satisfying yawn.

"H?"

"Yes?" He questioned, scrubbing his fingers vigorously through his hair.

"Do you know his name?"

"Yes Clarice, of course. I knew his father's name as well."

Clarice sat up in bed, now wide awake and forgetting her hunger. She flipped the bed covers and moved behind him. On her knees, she draped her body over his back and folded her arms gently around his neck. Kissing his cheek, she wrapped her forearms loosely across his collar bone. The silk of her negligee brushed across his back. He concentrated on the feel of her breasts on his bare back through the fabric.

"You spent one hour with that case file and you not only broke that anagram code but you were able to infer from what was in that file exactly who this person is?"

"Is this your idea of pillow talk, Clarice?" He closed her arms tighter around his body and turned his head reaching back for a quick kiss. "I told you he was not very clever, and actually if I'm being honest, I had been at the piano for more than twenty minutes when you arrived home from your run."

Wanting to face him she seductively slipped her body around his so that she was in his arms, across his lap. He was distracted by the contact and began to move his hands under the silky fabric, reaching for her breasts and giving little thought to the questions she posed.

Clarice stopped him, much to his dismay. "Hannibal, exactly how much time did you spend reviewing the file?"

"Another kiss Clarice or I must refuse to answer."

She reached for and pulled him to her, placing an extended kiss on his mouth. She traced the tip of her tongue across his lips just before she released him. Hannibal smiled, took a deep breath, and answered without opening his eyes. "Thirty-five, possibly forty minutes, but that is an approximation."

"Jesus, H how in the hell do you do that? It's like your brain is a goddamned supercomputer or something. It's a little intimidating at times."

"Another kiss, Clarice…I think I deserve it."

Clarice reached up and kissed him again. Hannibal lingered, drawing out the moment. Clarice pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back slightly. She had information and though she was no longer an active agent there was a girl in danger and it was not in her nature to be patient.

"I don't mean to put you off but I've got to call Ardelia. I need to find out what Pearsall is up to. They were going to offer you something if you were able to identify the killer. If you know who he is…they might be able to save the girl. Can I take a rain check, H?"

"Yes of course, do what you must Clarice. I believe I'll need a cold shower before preparing our breakfast. Would you like to join me?"

Clarice pulled Hannibal backward, jumped over, straddled him, and pinned his shoulders on the bed. "You are incorrigible, H. Your libido will have to wait a while. I swear I don't know how a man your age has the energy or the stamina you have. I can barely keep up."

"I spent quite a few years out of commission, Clarice." He settled under her weight and smiled.

Clarice flirtatiously leaned over Hannibal's body. "It isn't as if you couldn't take matters into your own hands, H."

"With Doctor Chilton's cameras trained on me twenty–four hours a day? No, I only allowed myself that form of relief when I was fortunate enough to be given time in the shower on Barney's shift. Being a gentleman, regardless of Chilton's directives, he allowed me the necessary privacy. I do not know if I would have survived that incarceration were it not for his friendship."

She kissed his forehead. "What about the other times?"

Hannibal's hands moved up and down her thighs, though his eyes glazed over momentarily as he briefly relived the distress. "It was not unusual to have someone standing watch. Doctor Chilton did enjoy his petty torments."

She sat up with her palms resting on his chest, waiting for her husband to resume eye contact. "I'm sorry, H."

"There is no need. I have you with me. The past has passed and as you know, I have no problem having _you _watch me shower."

Clarice smiled, and this caused Hannibal to smile. Her expression reminded him of the first day she appeared outside his cell, so young and unafraid.

She had no idea what he was thinking but was glad to see his expression lighten. "Well, as much as I would enjoy the _view_, I've got to speak to Ardelia. That animal isn't going to keep the girl alive forever."

Hannibal grabbed her hips and smiled. "Yes, he will."

"What?"

"How long has she been in his company, Clarice? Do you remember from the case file?"

"No, but I'm sure you do."

"She has been with him a full two weeks. Rest assured, he will not kill this young woman any more than I would have killed you when first we met."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, H?"

"All of the information is within the case file, Clarice. As I told you…he covets. He envied me my life and he envied my love for you. He is ashamed of his own father, though who could blame him. That _man_ was not much of a role model. He developed somewhat of an unhealthy obsession with obtaining what I obtained. Unfortunately, he did not possess my intellectual capacity or epicurean adventurism though he has made every effort…he has failed at each turn. This last girl, however…she is unlike the others. She will keep him entertained until your friends are able to retrieve her."

"They won't catch him without your help."

"Of that fact I am fully aware."

Hannibal pulled Clarice to him and began to kiss her again. Suddenly he lifted his face from her.

_Something is different._

He pressed his face against her neck and breathed deeply. Raising a questioning eyebrow Hannibal repeated the process, this time clamping his mouth over her neck and sucking on the skin very gently as if tasting it. Again he nuzzled her just behind her ear breathing very deeply. Finally, he pulled from her with a quizzical expression on his face.

Clarice noticed his confusion. "What's wrong H?"

"Your scent has changed, Clarice."

"I'm not wearing any perfume."

"I'm not discussing perfume…I'm talking about your personal scent. I'm referring to that wonderful aroma that is exclusive to _you_."

"Is that something I should worry about? Does it mean I'm sick or something?"

"Clarice? When was your last period?"

"The pill I take limits how often I get it but it's been a few months. Why?"

"Did you miss any of your pills?"

"Only the night you broke the mirror, but I doubled up the next day. Why?"

"Did we make love that night?" He was certain they had but wanting confirmation.

"Yes, H you know we did. We make love every night… Why?"

"Because, Clarice…I believe you to be carrying our child."

She was shocked at the suggestion never having pictured herself a mother, much less imagining Hannibal Lecter a father. Her heart pounded so rapidly she could feel the pulse of it in her ears.

"H?"

"Yes?"

"What do we do?"

"Obviously we will be going to town to purchase a pregnancy test."

"I'm sorry H."

Hannibal seemed genuinely unaffected at the prospect of potential fatherhood. "Why are you sorry? If you are pregnant, I was very active and very willing participant in the process. I will not apologize for wanting you. Why should you apologize for wanting me in return? It is human nature, Clarice. Occasionally, unplanned pregnancies occur. It is not the end of the world…it is the beginning of a life."

She swung her leg over Hannibal and sat up in bed, shaking her head. Children were not on her radar. It wasn't even something she had remotely considered. "I'm sorry because I messed up the birth control. It was my responsibility and I screwed it up."

"If my memory of Biology 101 serves me, Clarice, among mammals…it takes two to tango. If I were overly worried about the prospect of fatherhood I could easily have insisted on condoms as a safety measure."

If I am pregnant…that complicates our situation. A baby, H…"

"I am a Doctor, Clarice. I do understand the eventual outcome of a pregnancy is a baby. Rest assured we will handle this together."

Agitated and unsure of what he expected of her, Clarice, ever the warrior and now the potentially protective mother made no effort to hide her frustration.

"What do you mean we will _handle_ it? If I'm carrying our baby I need you to know, H…that I won't abort it. I won't kill a part of us."

"No need to get hormonal so soon, Clarice. I don't recall asking that of you."

"When can we take the test?"

"After you have eaten we will purchase what we need."

"Can't we just go and get the test now?"

"You need to eat, Clarice."

He could see the look of frustration in her eyes.

"Very well, my Love I offer you a compromise. You may contact Miss Mapp and eat something suitable, may I suggest the homemade granola and some fresh fruit perhaps. I will drive into town and quickly return with the aforementioned test. Is that suitable?"

"But you haven't eaten either."

"I've waited this long. I don't think another half hour will have much of an impact on me. You on the other hand cannot afford to take any chances. Are we in agreement?"

"Yes, H. Thanks for being so understanding."

"Of course, as I have told you before… there is nothing I will ever deny you."

Hannibal was showered and dressed before Clarice finished preparing her breakfast. He kissed her, reached to access the fruit bowl and grabbed an apple.

"For the road..."

Clarice walked with him to the foyer where he grabbed his wallet and keys from their customary placement in the crystal dish on the entryway table. Clarice deactivated the security code and hugged him.

"I love you, H."

"I love you as well, Clarice. Now go eat your breakfast and call your friend. I will return as quickly as possible and we will find out whether or not I must take you shopping for maternity clothing."

"Be careful."

"Always."

Clarice hurried to the kitchen, grabbed her breakfast and her lap top and sat at the table. She emailed Ardelia asking her to call when she could, careful to explain that Hannibal was certain he knew who the killer was and she wanted to know what Bowman came up with. Ardelia called immediately.

"Hey Dee…what's up. What do you have for me?"

"Do you trust me, Clarice?"

"Of course I do…you know that. Why?"

"If Hannibal agrees to this you are both going to have to trust me implicitly."

"Agrees to what, Dee?"

"You have to come back to Washington."

"He'll never agree to that. It would be suicide."

"I'll have guarantees in place…I would never jeopardize your safety. You know that."

"You don't understand. I think I'm pregnant. H went to get the test. I'll know in an hour or so."

"Clarice, you don't understand. If you can get him to agree to this he might never have to run again."

"Or I might be delivering him into their hands. I would put a bullet between the Bashandi girl's eyes before I take that kind of a chance with his life. I won't ask that of him. I can't ask that of him."

"Why because you are afraid he won't do it?"

"No, Dee, I won't because I know… if _I _ask him…he will."

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	20. Chapter 20

**POSITIVE**

Hannibal stood quietly in the aisle where the pregnancy tests were stacked. He traced a finger along the selections carefully read each box, and finally settled on the test that would detect the presence of hCG within one day of a woman's missed period.

Clarice's method of contraception made that difficult to judge, however Hannibal was certain. The test, he believed was a foregone conclusion. He walked over to the cashier, placed the box on the counter and reached for his wallet.

Feeling eyes on him, Hannibal surreptitiously searched his periphery and could clearly see someone behind him, straining to get his attention. Hannibal shifted slightly to see Rodrigo Molina, Francisco the waiter's father.

"Signor Molina, a pleasure to see you again. How is Francisco?"

"He is doing well, Doctor. Thank you for asking." Rodrigo gestured to Hannibal's purchase. "And your lovely wife, Clarice…are we expecting a blessing perhaps?"

"We shall see." Hannibal paid the cashier, nodded a polite thank you and took the bag. Again he turned to Rodrigo. "Please give my very best to your family."

"And my best to your growing family as well, Doctor Dante."

Hannibal drove home as quickly as possible knowing that Clarice would be anxious. Though careful not to break any traffic laws he did bend the speed limit more than was his custom. Once on his property, he accessed the large gate protecting the compound by remote, knowing the security panel in the foyer would notify Clarice of his arrival. She was nervous and Hannibal worried what her reaction to this possible pregnancy might be. He also wondered what the result of her conversation with Ms. Mapp had been.

_Thus far it has been an eventful day to say the least._

Hannibal barely had an opportunity to close the car door when Clarice opened the front door and anxiously waved him to the house.

"C'mon H… I'm dying here!"

"Pregnancy is hardly a terminal condition, Clarice. Mr. Molina sends his best."

"I don't care if Jesus came down off the cross to send me his best get in here!"

Hannibal jogged the rest of the way up to the house. Clarice grabbed the box and started to read the instructions.

"That took more than an hour, H. Did you stop for coffee too?"

"One makes and effort to please and is rewarded with sarcasm! Ah, so begins the life of a man with a hormonally challenged spouse."

"Very funny, H."

Hannibal guided her lovingly to the master bathroom.

"It is all very simple, Clarice. You merely have to collect urine in the provided cup, dip the small stick into the liquid and wait. Although the package suggests results may be visible after five minutes. I suggest waiting ten before checking the results."

Already at the limits of her patience Clarice was confused. "Why in hell would I want to wait an _additional_ five minutes?"

"Because, dear wife, this test utilizes monoclonal antibodies designed to detect the presence of human chorionic gonadotropin. Your body may not yet be producing quantities optimal for testing."

Normally, Clarice would be impressed with Hannibal's knowledge but she was beyond caring. Impatient and irritated, she rolled her eyes, opened the box and took out the collection cup.

"H, I'm struggling with the logistics of urinating into a thimble…English, please."

"The hormone hCG is only released _after _the embryo implants itself onto the uterine wall. Therefore, if you are indeed pregnant and the embryo has just recently implanted, the levels of this particular hormone will be much lower. If you wait the additional five minutes the test will be able to detect even the lowest of levels."

"Got it, we'll wait ten. Husband or not, peeing in a cup is not a spectator sport so hit the bricks, H."

Hannibal nodded. "Understood…I'll be just outside the door should you need me."

After a few moments Clarice exited the bathroom. "Okay, start the clock. Let me know when our ten minutes are up."

Hannibal looked at his watch. "I'd be happy to play timekeeper for you Clarice."

Clarice dropped onto the bed and let her arms fall above her head as if in full surrender. Hannibal sat beside her and rested a hand on her knee. Seeking comfort, Clarice scooted over to him and curled her body around the outside of his. "How will we know if it's positive?"

He ran his hand through her hair, stroking it as much for her comfort as for his. "A line will appear in the designated area. If there is a line my Love, there is a baby."

Clarice was obviously inordinately agitated, tapping her foot on the edge of the bed nervously.

Hannibal believed discussing the conversation with Ardelia might distract her.

"Were you able to speak with your friend, Clarice?"

"Yes and she said to tell you Logan says hello." She didn't offer any more information than that. Hannibal was puzzled as the mere mention of Ardelia would often spawn countless stories and anecdotes.

"Logan…I should phone him one afternoon. He took quite a chance to help us. It would have been difficult to arrange our plan without his participation. Will you forward his phone number to my cell so that I might do just that?"

"Sure, that would make his life! He is a goddamned groupie! He drove me crazy talking about you every freaking minute of every day. I think if you actually called him…he'd probably die a happy man."

Clarice rolled back and forth on the bed. She was feeling edgy and hoped Hannibal would grow tired of the conversation and would shift his attentions to the pregnancy test. She didn't wish to continue talking about Logan or Ardelia or the goddamned FBI.

Hannibal smiled. "He's a very talented marksman. Talented individuals are often eccentric. One would hope he is as fortunate as I to find a woman tolerant of those eccentricities."

"He and Ardelia are dating. She always loved pretty boys and doesn't mind if they are a couple of nuggets short of a happy meal."

"Nuggets, Clarice?"

"It's a reference to McDonald's H. It means he's a little light in the intellect. He's adorable and sweet and a hell of a shot, but no one would accuse Logan of being a brain trust. Ardelia doesn't mind that."

"And you?"

"I've always loved you, H."

"And I have only loved you. Did Pearsall give Ardelia any further information?"

Clarice panicked at the mention of Pearsall and was sure Hannibal noticed. She had not considered what she would say to Hannibal about the offer from Washington. So preoccupied with the possibility of pregnancy, she hadn't formulated what she would or would not tell him, though she clearly remembered his words of warning to her from Baltimore.

_Don't lie to me or I'll know. _

_Jesus, Clarice just tell him. You have no shot at out thinking him. Especially not under these conditions._

Clarice was convinced that if she tried to keep any of the information from him, he would perceive deception. He trusted her fully and she could not chance losing his trust, even if she believed it would be better for him not to know. She was a lot of things but she had never been a liar and wouldn't start now. Not to him and not over something as important as this. She would have to tell him the truth.

"They are having a meeting at the White House today, Hannibal."

"Hannibal is it? Not H? Has this conversation taken a serious turn, Clarice?"

_Jesus Christ he doesn't miss a goddamned thing!_

"Well it is the White House. That's no small matter."

If Hannibal was shocked, he didn't let on. His voice was calm and curious. "And who will attend this meeting at the White House?"

"Ardelia, Bowman, Pearsall, D.C.P.D., State Police and members of the Justice Department are meeting with the President and the Egyptian Prime Minister. They think they have a plan but to be honest H, I'm not a fan of it. That's why I didn't bring it up."

"What does the plan involve?"

"It involves a trip to Washington." Her heart sunk. _Stop asking questions!_

"The trip to Washington is for whom Clarice?"

Clarice wanted to crawl in a hole and pull the dirt over herself. With his intellect, she knew he had already deciphered the reason for the meeting with the President. He would be of only one use in this instance.

"The trip to Washington would be for you, H."

Hannibal glanced calmly at his watch. "Five minutes remain."

Clarice could see the wheels turning in her husband's mind. She wondered how many contingencies and possibilities he could consider simultaneously. His eyes were tracking as if he were reading, though obviously it was his method of processing information.

"Washington? What would make _that _a prudent option for us, Clarice?"

Clarice didn't believe her heart could beat any faster. Her mind raced and her thoughts cried out. _There's nothing at all that makes this a prudent option for you! Nothing!_

But her mind overruled her heart and stayed calmly and firmly in control of the conversation. "The White House wants you to be evaluated."

"To what end? Either the information I provide leads to the release of the girl or it does not. What could possibly entice me to jeopardize my freedom? The information I possess need not be given in person."

"No, they want to evaluate you to make sure you won't become a political liability if they actually do what they have promised they will do."

"Clarice?"

"Do you know who James Brown is?"

"I am assuming you are discussing the historical figure and not the musician."

"Yes."

"Is that a viable option, Clarice? Without the White House, that offer is a moot point."

"Ardelia will call after they finish with the meeting so we will know more later on today."

"I am curious. What is your opinion of this, Clarice?"

"I would rather look that girl in the eye and put a round directly into her head if it means seeing you in custody again, temporary or not. You would have to surrender in Washington. It's the only way they will consider it. I don't think I could see you taken away in chains again, Hannibal…not now…not ever."

Impassively, Hannibal looked at his watch. "Just a moment or two more, and we will be able to read the results. What precise kind of an evaluation are they seeking?"

"Psychological." Clarice stated. "They want to make sure you aren't going to be roaming through the world tearing people's faces off and wearing them anymore."

Hannibal smiled. "Ah, yes, well that might make celebrating Halloween a challenge but I suppose I can sacrifice realism for decorum. I cannot imagine how in the world I would be able to assure them that I am no longer a threat, other than the evidence of our daily lives, which I will not use as proof."

"What do you mean you wouldn't use that as proof? It's the only proof. Of course we would use that."

"No, Clarice. If I am ever to surrender it must be clear that you are here as my victim. I will not have you implicated in my escape. I would never allow that. If I am ever to submit to any of this, I would insist that Ardelia handle the situation and that she take responsibility for your care until the situation is resolved. I have a contingency plan that must be followed to the letter.

"You haven't taken any lives. There are no human kidneys roasting in our oven. We have all the proof we need. I just refuse to let you do it, H. I can't allow it. I won't allow it. You don't need a thing from them. We don't need a thing from them."

"Clarice if circumstances present themselves this offer may very well be worth the temporary inconvenience of incarceration."

"And what if they change their minds? What if the incarceration is not temporary?"

"The reward may indeed far exceed the risk…the potential outcome would have a tremendous impact on the rest of our lives, Clarice, especially if you are carrying our child."

"No! I'll never let you submit yourself to that kind of scrutiny or degradation again. I won't watch you be prodded and probed by lesser minds…by lesser men. I don't care what they offer…we already have all we need…we have each other. Do you understand how I feel about this, H?"

"I understand, Clarice." Hannibal checked his watch. "It's time."

"Can you get it, H. I'm too nervous."

Hannibal brushed a comforting hand down Clarice's arm as he moved to retrieve the test.

Clarice leapt to her feet and nervously paced back and forth, her heart racing, not certain if she wanted a positive or a negative result. Hannibal reached for the plastic stick Clarice had placed in the appropriate holder. He held it up. The result was clear.

Hannibal left the bathroom and walked over to his wife. He put his arms around her and kissed her tenderly.

"Thank you, Clarice."

"Thank you for what, H?"

Hannibal held his wife as tightly as he could manage. Until this moment they had been two orphans, linked only by their love for one another. Family had not been part of their vocabulary but now, in each other's arms, that single word had become the center of their universe.

"I thank you for my life, I thank you for our love, and I thank you for our child."

Clarice Starling kissed Hannibal Lecter as if she were kissing him for the first time. It was full and warm and Hannibal felt more love in that one prolonged moment than he had felt his entire adult life. Clarice held his face in her cupped hands and looked deeply into his warm crimson eyes.

"Hannibal, no matter what they offer you…I need you to understand that your life and the life of our baby…you are everything to me. I'll never let you go, H. I can't risk losing you."

"I know, my Love…I know."

_Some days you wake up changed._

The safety of this child and of his wife instantaneously became the singular focus of Hannibal's existence and their well-being would now be the measure by which all things would now be weighed.

Hannibal opened a new wing to his memory palace and engraved 'My Family' in platinum above a crystalline door. From this moment forward, he was no longer only Lover and Husband. He was Father. He was Guardian. Within his mind, Hannibal Lecter stood a silent sentry to this entrance.

_No man alive will breach this door. Within they will not awaken Father or Husband or Lover. _

_They will awaken Protector… Predator… Destroyer…and they will pray for Death._

**Until next chapter, my friends,**

**LH**


	21. Chapter 21

**THE WHITE HOUSE**

The Attorney General and the Council from the Office of Pardons sat on either side of the President. On the elongated side of the table the Egyptian Prime Minister and members of his staff were seated. Opposite the Prime Minister, Ardelia, Pearsall and Noonan sat very overwhelmed and obviously intimidated. In front of the room beside a large projector connected to a screen built into one of the walls stood Bowman, not even remotely affected by the office or the present company he was in, connecting his computer to the system.

"This video was posted recently on YouTube, I believe it clearly shows Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling…interacting." Bowman played the video. Everyone in the room reacted when Hannibal came into view.

The moment the video ran its course the Prime Minister spoke. "I fail to see what this has to do with my daughter."

Bowman answered confidently. "Sir this video is fairly conclusive proof that Hannibal Lecter may be alive and if he is indeed alive, it is very possible that he will be the only person equipped to solve this case in the time necessary to save your daughter's life."

"Why would a man who has killed so many help me to save my daughter?"

Pearsall spoke up. "Doctor Lecter has assisted the FBI on numerous cases. We've saved many lives thanks to his efforts. There is no reason to believe he wouldn't assist us if we have an incentive for him to do so."

Bowman directed his comments to the President. "That's where you come in, Sir."

The president sat, his hands folded in front of him, and calmly questioned Bowman. "Are you suggesting that I offer Doctor Hannibal Lecter a pardon in exchange for his participation in this case?"

Bowman nodded. "If Doctor Lecter is at large and one can assume, no longer in the United States there would be little reason for him to participate unless we have something extremely attractive to offer him. A pardon wouldn't be necessary. A commutation of his sentence based on his assistance in various cases is perfectly defensible."

The Attorney General was hurriedly scrawling notes. "Special Agent Bowman, has there ever been a case where the presidential pardon was extended to a person who had been convicted of murder.

Bowman nodded. "In eighteen sixty-seven, President Johnson commuted the sentence of a man named James Brown on January third. Not only was he convicted of murder, he was also accused of cannibalism though that fact is in question, but interestingly enough he did have maroon eyes, exactly like Lecter."

The president was obviously not convinced this was an acceptable risk. "We would need assurances that Hannibal Lecter no longer poses a danger to the general public."

The Attorney General was even more unconvinced. "If the President commutes Lecter's sentence, what guarantees do we have that he will not continue his…habits. This could be a public relations disaster."

Prime Minister Bashandi drilled his index finger into the table repeatedly, the furious tapping garnering everyone's attention.

"If my daughter does not survive this…it will be a disaster for _you_. I will not support any administration that values public relations over the life of my child." Prime Minister Bashandi turned to Ardelia.

"I understand this woman, Clarice Starling, was a very close friend of yours. Do you think she would stay in his company if he were committing crimes?"

Ardelia spoke up with all of the confidence and assurance she could force behind her words. "Assuming that Hannibal Lecter is traveling in the company of Clarice Starling there is no way possible that he would be committing any additional crimes. She would not allow it and knowing how he feels about her I am certain he would never disrespect her by going against her wishes."

Prime Minister Bashandi allowed himself to feel just the slightest bit encouraged. "And do you believe that Doctor Lecter would help find my daughter if his sentence was commuted?"

Ardelia was certain this plan would work only if she had the confidence of Bashandi. She made eye contact with the Prime Minister and held his attention with her gaze.

"Lecter would only be tempted by the commutation of his sentence if he were seeking to live a normal life with Clarice. If that video is to be believed, their relationship has definitely evolved beyond the professional interactions of their past. If they are indeed linked romantically, Lecter would absolutely consider this offer. I believe it to be not only a viable option, but the only option tempting enough to bring Lecter out of hiding."

Bashandi turned to the president, looking him directly in the eye as he spoke with conviction.

"Mr. President if this man is the only viable option, I don't care what you have to offer him. I want my daughter returned to me. If there is any outcome that does not involve my daughter's rescue, _not_ her recovery, be certain the wrath of Hannibal Lecter will be mild in comparison to the vengeance I will seek. I will provide transportation for Doctor Lecter allowing him to immediately leave your country on my plane with his wife and my daughter so that you will be assured he will not become a political liability."

Noonan leaned across the table toward Bashandi. "Sir, Hannibal Lecter is an extremely dangerous man."

"He didn't look dangerous in that video. He looked like a man very much in love. He is also wearing a wedding ring, as is Miss Starling. A married man will protect what is his. She is his. I believe he will indeed help us if he believes he is helping her. If he trusts me enough to leave the safety of his home with his wife, I will give him the trust to take them from this country."

The president looked over to the counsel from the pardon office.

"What do you need to make this happen, Mr. Beckett?"

"There is an application form that must be processed. We will need some proof that Lecter is no longer a threat. A psychological evaluation would be necessary. We would insist also that his wife be interviewed. He would have to agree to be held in custody during the evaluation process. I assume we would also need to present the materials to legal counsel for Lecter."

Mapp spoke up. "What about Starling? She would have no need to be taken into custody. She hasn't committed any crimes. Can I suggest she stay with me? She and I shared a duplex. All of her belongings are still there and I would be able to accompany her to any meetings or interviews."

The Attorney General nodded in agreement. "That would be acceptable. What do we do with Lecter? We would have to house him in a prison or mental hospital …somewhere that we can keep him locked down until the girl is found. After that, if Mr. Bashandi wishes to take custody of Lecter, that would be amenable. We can't just release him to the streets."

Bashandi was encouraged by the possible involvement of Lecter. "How will you contact Lecter? How long do you think it will be before we have a result?"

Bowman tapped at his computer. He posted several proofs of full page newspaper ads. "The ads shown are all coded but this code is very primary just needing coverage from casual observers. Lecter is being directed to a website that explains the situation your daughter is in and what we are offering for his assistance. He will contact either through that website or he may use a phone number we have designated specifically for this case. The ads are all set to run tomorrow in more than ten major publications."

The anxious father turned to Mapp. "How long do you think it will take for Hannibal Lecter to respond? First he must break the code."

Ardelia smiled remembering how quickly Lecter solved the anagrams. "He will have the code solved within five minutes. He will respond before the end of the day."

"You seem very certain, ." The president commented.

"Mr. President, I believe Hannibal Lecter will do anything to assure Clarice Starling's safety. He will not let this opportunity pass. We will hear from him tomorrow."

The president turned to the Attorney General.

"Find out where we can house Lecter. I insist that he be handled appropriately but securely. Dot the I's and cross the T's. Wedding ring or not, this is Hannibal Lecter we are talking about. Mistakes aren't costly…they are deadly."

**THE CALL**

Ardelia called Clarice as soon as she left the white house. Clarice was glad that Hannibal was playing the piano when the call came in.

"Hey girl, I've got good news! The president is on board. They approved commuting Hannibal's sentences."

"Ardelia, I won't let him consider it. I took a pregnancy test and it was positive. I won't let him take a chance like that. Not with Pearsall in charge…I don't trust him."

"First, congratulations. Second, are you crazy? They wouldn't be chasing you anymore. You would never have to worry again. What chance are you talking about?"

"Once they have him why would they let him go?"

"To secure Hannibal's involvement the Egyptian Prime Minister has guaranteed his safety. When his daughter is rescued he will take Hannibal into his custody and he will fly you both out of the country. They are drawing up the paper work for a lawyer to evaluate so that Hannibal's interests are protected. The Attorney General is trying to find appropriate facilities to house your hubby. You will be staying with me."

"What do you mean 'appropriate facilities'?"

"He would have to agree to be temporarily incarcerated just until the psych evaluation is completed and the girl is recovered. They don't know him like we do, Clarice. They are scared shitless of him. He would be transported in much the same way he was when he was incarcerated."

"Ardelia…I can't watch them drag him away like that."

"Then don't watch."

"Very funny!"

"No, I mean it Clarice. If you can't stand to see him taken into custody, don't be there when it happens. You are pregnant and your hormones are probably freaking raging. You are not thinking clearly and Hannibal has the right to make the decision himself. You need to step back from this and take into consideration that he might want to do this for you. He might want to do this for his child. You don't have the right to tell him he can't."

"If he is taken into custody, I would be by his side. I wouldn't let him endure that without me. There would be some comfort for him if I were near. Send me the info. I promise I'll discuss it with him."

Hannibal entered the room and heard the last part of the sentence. "You will discuss what with me, Clarice?"

"Hang on, Ardelia." She turned to Hannibal. "The White House has approved commuting your sentences in exchange for your cooperation in identifying the Ripper. Ardelia will send me the information and we'll go over it. You can decide what you would like to do about it."

"I have already made my decision Clarice. Tell Ms. Mapp to make the appropriate arrangements."

"They will take you into custody. You know what that means even if it's temporary you will be held in secured housing…administrative segregation…solitary confinement, H."

"I am more aware than you know will ever know exactly what that means, Clarice."

Clarice spoke quietly into the phone. "Send me the information, Dee. He wants to do it."

Clarice turned off her cell phone and flipped open her lap top. Within moments, the information Bowman was having placed in the newspaper ads appeared on her screen. Lecter looked at the coded messages and sent an immediate response to Ardelia. The code was little challenge to Lecter.

As soon as Ardelia confirmed receipt of the decoded message, Clarice closed her lap top. She let a hand remain on the closed screen as if it were resting on the closed lid of a coffin. Hannibal noticed the shift in her mood and thought it better to leave her to experience whatever it was that she was feeling. She was entitled to her concern and he would not attempt to dissuade her fear. He did in fact share it.

Clarice sat quietly at the table, so Hannibal sat quietly across from her, neither speaking. Hannibal would most assuredly not break the silence. He sat quietly and watched his wife very intently; waiting for her to process the decision.

Clarice crossed her arms in front of her and rested her head. Still, Hannibal remained silent. He simply sat beside her and shared the space, the silence between them formed blanket around them. After a few moments Hannibal reached across the table and rested his hand on Clarice's forearm.

Hannibal and Clarice spent their last night in each other's arms. For the first time, their marriage bed did not include their coupling. Clarice rested on her side. Hannibal rested alongside her, his body forming a protective barrier, a physical carapace to comfort her. He held her and whispered his love to her throughout the night.

Sometime, just before dawn, Hannibal Lecter slept.

Sometime, just before dawn, Clarice Starling wept.

**THE TRANSFER**

Clarice and Hannibal spent the day traveling from one airport to the next using a variety of passports and identifications. Hannibal insisted on utilizing only identification and passports that had no connection to their home in Patagonia. Whether or not his sentences were commuted, Hannibal and Clarice had every intention of returning to their compound and returning to their lives. They would do everything to protect that life.

Clarice and Hannibal arrived at the last leg of their journey. Logan agreed to meet them at Dulles and drive them to the designated meeting area. Hannibal would be taken into custody and transferred to an undisclosed correctional facility where he would undergo an evaluation. Logan pulled up to the curb and hopped out, reaching for Clarice's luggage. He reached out a hand to Lecter.

"Hey, I hear congratulations are in order. Your lady here is really having a baby?"

Hannibal smiled. "Yes, Logan she is indeed having our child."

"Hey, Bowmeister, come here."

Bowman stepped out of the car and very cautiously approached. Hannibal watched Lloyd's movements very carefully. Lloyd smiled when he saw Clarice. "I'm so happy you are alive. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Lloyd." She forced a smile.

Logan put the bag in the trunk. "You have any luggage, Doctor?"

"No, Logan. They will be locking me up today. I will be unable to wear my own clothing."

"Jesus…I didn't think of that. Well, allow me to make the introductions…Lloyd Bowman this is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Doctor Lecter this is Lloyd Bowman or Bowmeister as I like to call him."

Hannibal reached out to shake Lloyd's hand. "Special Agent Bowman...Bowmeister?"

"Yeah, Logan likes nicknames. I think it adds meaning to his life. I call him the Loganator."

"Hey Bowmeister, did you hear that Clarice is having a baby?"

Bowman was surprised. Clarice certainly didn't appear pregnant. "Congratulations, Clarice...Doctor Lecter."

Logan continued as they entered the car.  
>"Seriously, Doc I bow down to your greatness. I mean we all wanted to bag Clarice but she wouldn't give us the time of day. ! I think I'm going to call you The Sperminator. I mean no shit, Doctor…for a guy your age, that's pretty fucking impressive!"<p>

Hannibal couldn't resist turning the phrase. "Or one might argue that it was pretty impressive fuc-"

Clarice interrupted the word by placing her hand over her husband's mouth. "Don't you dare finish that thought, H."

"Of course, my Love…I humbly beg your forgiveness."

Sitting in the back seat of Logan's car, Hannibal pulled Clarice to him and held her close.

Bowman smiled at the repartee'. Clarice and Hannibal were in love. It was obvious and equally obvious was the fact that Logan was comfortable in Hannibal's presence. No doubt because of his Lecter obsession. Hannibal Lecter seemed exceedingly relaxed for a man about to enter prison again for the first time in many years.

They pulled into a large military hanger. Logan parked in the center of the structure and got out. Clarice and Bowman exited next. Hannibal sat in the back seat of the car, allowing the police officers to move into position. He took a deep breath and stepped out from the car clearly holding his arms above his head in surrender.

The tornado of activity was more than Clarice imagined. She had been in jump out squads many times and understood the process of taking down a suspect, but he wasn't a suspect. He was voluntarily surrendering. He was a cooperating informant. It took the SWAT team, guns drawn and directed at Hannibal seconds to surround him.

Hannibal stood in the center of the circle cautiously shifting his attention as officers barked conflicting orders in his face. One officer stepped forward and fired a taser, sending the darts into Hannibal's thigh. His legs buckled and his body fell to the ground in a loud thud. He rolled onto his side, making every effort not to groan from the surge of burning pain.

Clarice ran to him and pulled the barbs out of his body. Seven officers circled him, their rifles trained. Hannibal stood quietly as two officers walked toward him carrying a straightjacket. Another officer approached carrying Hannibal's restraint mask.

Logan charged at the officers and swung a fist knocking out the larger of the two. The smaller man panicked as Logan loomed, his normally sweet face twisted in anger.

"Get the fuck off of him!"

Hannibal brushed the dirt from his suit. "I am fine, Logan. I thank you for your concern. Please do not jeopardize your career further. Fear is a powerful motivator. To avoid bloodshed, I must submit."

Clarice reached into Hannibal's cuff and grabbed his Harpy. She flipped the blade open, brandished it and wrapping her arms around her husband, assumed a protective stance.

"I love you, H. You are my life."

"I love you as well, Clarice. You are the beginning of all things."

Hannibal slowly peeled her arms from around his neck, took a deep breath, exhaled and kissed her tenderly. He then removed his suit jacket and his tie, folded them neatly and set them on the trunk of the car ever mindful of the twitchy officers with the itchy trigger fingers.

"Clarice I expected this response. Realize that they will not transport me unless I am neutralized. Please, my Love. Help me. I would accept this much easier from you."

"No, H…no…don't ask me that, please. I can't."

"Please…Clarice…please. I need it to be you."

Clarice, tears welling in her eyes, picked up the straightjacket and helped Hannibal slide his arms inside. He folded his arms across his chest. Tears streaming down her face as she bound his body adjusted the straps and buckled them behind his back.

Hannibal's chest heaved as his ragged breath shuddered in and out. His overstressed body trembled. He struggled mightily to maintain control. Again, Hannibal was forced to ask for that which he did not wish.

"There is one more piece, my Love."

"No, H…no."

"Please, Clarice..."

"Christ…H, it's too much…I can't…not that, please…not that."

"Please…my Love…before my courage leaves me."

Clarice sobbed uncontrollably as she placed the restraint mask over her lover's face. His ragged breath hitched as it covered his skin. His breathing became rapid and uneven. She could see the struggle in his eyes. Clarice held his gaze, tears streaming as she buckled the straps behind his head. She could not control her grief. Trembling, she kissed him through the bars of the mask's mouthpiece. His maroon eyes burned as the tears welled.

"Thank you, Clarice…Thank you."

**Until the next chapter, my friends, **

**LH**


	22. Chapter 22

**HANNIBAL HELD**

Hannibal, now for the most part neutralized, allowed the relieved officers to secure him. The lead Agent waved a two man team into the area pushing the hand truck they would use to transport Lecter. Clarice clung to him as if her very existence hinged on his presence. Hannibal whispered in her ear.

"Do not give them this satisfaction, my Love."

Fixed on her eyes he nodded his pride as he watched the weakness leave them. Resolved, she stepped back from him and he smiled.

"Brave Clarice... I fear the lambs may return while I am in the presence of the wolves. Make an effort to keep them at bay…for the sake of the child."

"I will H."

Hannibal stepped onto the narrow platform of the gurney and waited patiently as the officers secured him to the frame. He could feel their heartbeats in the pit of his stomach. He could smell the fear, the pungent flavor of it writhing over his taste buds as he inhaled deeply. So pleased was Hannibal with this reaction to him that he could not suppress the voice within him that said.

_Do it._

When the agents were closest, both mere inches from him, distracted as they checked the placement of the restraint mask, Hannibal, for his own pleasure, lunged at the closest man. He bared his teeth and hissed the sound that chilled Clarice to the core upon their first meeting.

_Thhht thhht thhht thhht thht thhht thhhht!_

The man closest to Lecter stumbled back in panic and fell in a heap. Terrorized, he scuttled backward along the cement floor as if the sound itself could wound mortally.

Clarice smiled. At that moment she saw a switch flip in her husband. He chose Power. He did not have it within him to choose Victim.

"Special Agent Marley?" Lecter called to Logan.

Logan ran to Hannibal's side. "What can I do for you Doc? Name it and it's done."

"Please ask Miss Mapp to care for Clarice while I am indisposed. If you would attend to that for me I would be tremendously grateful to you, Logan."

"Don't worry, Doc. We'll take care of Clarice and the baby. You tell them what they want to know so we can get you both out of here."

The Agents disregarded the conversation between Logan and Lecter and began to move the gurney. Logan pushed one man back and grabbed the shirt of the other, twisting the fabric and lifting the agent to the tips of his toes.

"That was very, very rude. If I were you I would be much more polite when you handle my good friend here. He hates rude people."

"Unless accompanied by a balsamic reduction and an understated Montrachet…that would do rather nicely." The Doctor added, staring the men down with a wicked smile.

The reference to cannibalism adjusted the attitudes of the Agents in question. They paused and let Logan finish speaking.

"As I was saying Doc…no worries, Clarice will be taken care of. I'll see to it myself."

"Thank you Logan." Hannibal next turned to Clarice.

"Your friend has the information, Clarice. Mind that you follow my instructions. It may seem contrary to your intuition but there is method to my madness…understood?"

"Yes, H."

Hannibal nodded to the Agents. Politely taking his cue they wheeled him up a ramp and into an unmarked commercial vehicle. He winked at Clarice as they closed the doors.

She wouldn't break eye contact until the doors were fully closed. She wouldn't break down until she saw Ardelia.

Hannibal wouldn't break.

**INTAKE**

Hannibal had not been strip searched in years. He had vivid memories regarding the intrusive nature of the examination but treated it as exactly that, an examination. He was wholly unaffected by what others would describe as the shame of the procedure. Hannibal felt no shame. The more degrading the process, the more regal was his bearing as if the indignity of the experience was being redirected from Hannibal to those asking it of him.

The correctional officer placed in charge of his intake was dignified and considerate.

"Doctor Lecter, if you would allow me to remove this straight jacket?"

Hannibal nodded.

"And the mask?"

Hannibal nodded again.

"Can I ask you Sir, as a gentleman for your word that I may trust you without use of these restraints? I understand that you are in our care for an evaluation. As such, I am considering you a guest at our facility and not an inmate. I would like your word that you will behave as such, though unfortunately the search procedure will have to remain the same.

Hannibal nodded and to his surprise, the officer removed the jacket and the mask.

"Please disrobe Doctor."

Hannibal removed his clothing and stood facing the officer.

"Open your mouth and move your tongue from side to side…underneath."

The officer checked Hannibal's mouth to be certain no objects had been placed along his gum line.

"Thank you Doctor, now if you would, please show me your hands, and your feet by lifting them."

Hannibal complied.

"Thank you Doctor…if you would please squat down, lift and cough."

Again, very calmly, Hannibal complied.

"Please redress yourself in the clothing provided. Thank you for your cooperation, Doctor."

After donning his prison uniform, Hannibal was moved in cuffs and leg chains from the intake area to an administrative segregation cell. He was kept very far from the general population, for the safety of the other inmates. That meant no contact for twenty three of twenty four hours per day.

_Well, no matter. It isn't as if I'm here to make friends._

At no point during this process did Lecter speak. He was alert and polite, nodding yes or shaking his head no if a direct question was asked him. Other than that, he had no need to make conversation. This was a business arrangement, Quid pro quo.

He was released into his ten by twelve foot cell at just after ten in the evening. Lecter stood beside the metal table, next to the metal chair, across from the metal toilet. He paced back and forth for a moment, his mind flashing back to Baltimore. He could imagine himself as he was then. Bored, and listless, a dangerous and unpredictable being, until she came into his life. He would do anything to protect her, to protect their child. He walked to the bed and rested his tired body on the thin mattress covering the concrete slab that would be his nightly accommodation, yet in all this, Hannibal smiled.

_Well, with Chilton gone…at least I have a toilet seat. _He closed his eyes and thought of Clarice.

**CLARICE ALONE**

Clarice didn't speak the entire ride back from the hangar to the duplex she had shared with Ardelia.

Bowman and Logan sat as if they were at a funeral. They didn't speak or turn toward each other. Logan dropped Bowman off with a nod. When they were a respectable distance from Bowman's residence Logan spoke up.

"Clarice…it's my fault they have Hannibal. I clicked on the link and accidentally showed Lloyd that video. I'm really sorry. It's my fault."

"It's not your fault Logan. I don't know why, but Hannibal wanted to do this. No one forced him into it. As a matter of fact, I tried desperately to stop him…he wouldn't listen."

"Yeah, well I think he'd be a pretty tough guy to argue with…I guess if his mind is made up…that's it."

"Exactly."

Clarice looked out the window at the trees passing by and remembered the ride back from Verger's Farm, the bullet from the Sardinian still in her body. She looked over at Hannibal and wondered what would become of her. That was until she caught sight of his flashing maroon eyes, burning with concern for her. Knowing by his expression that she was indeed safe, she allowed herself to sink against his body as he carried her into the house.

Dizzy from blood loss she could only listen as he hurried from room to room, assembling what he needed for her surgery. She could smell his cologne as he leaned over her to check the wound. She could remember the delicate pressure of his gentle touch as he checked her vital signs. She closed her eyes, unafraid.

Ardelia was waiting in the doorway as Logan pulled up in front of the house. Clarice assumed Bowman called ahead. Logan ran around the car to let Clarice out. She stepped out of the vehicle and began walking toward her old residence. It seemed so foreign to her.

"Welcome home, Clarice." Ardelia exclaimed, as friendly and welcoming as she could manage.

Clarice couldn't even force a fake smile. _This isn't home…Hannibal is home._

She was emotionally and physically exhausted.

"Hey Dee..." That was all Clarice could manage.

"Hey, Girl…you okay? I heard it was rough."

"It was beyond rough…it was fucking hell. I can't even imagine what he's going through…he's all alone."

Logan put an arm on her shoulder to comfort her. "Clarice…he's not alone…he has you now and the baby. He'll never be alone again."

**MORNING**

Morning found Hannibal Lecter in much the same position he had assumed when first he closed his eyes. The noise was the most disconcerting aspect of the return to prison thus far. Inmates continued to yell obscenities and hurl objects for the better part of the night. Hannibal placed his mind elsewhere, waiting patiently for the psychological evaluation he assumed would begin today.

_They won't waste time. They can't afford to take the chance that he might hurt the girl._

He could smell them walking the row.

_A combination of Aqua Velva and fear… Pearsall. The correctional officer who helped during the intake process was present and another man…unknown…possibly the father._

Hannibal stood in the center of the cell and waited. The door was solid steel with no way of seeing the individual on the outside. The food tray was unlocked and the correctional officer spoke through the opening.

"Excuse me, Doctor Lecter. There are two gentlemen here who wish to speak with you. I will accompany you to an interview room. When they are finished, there will be a psychiatrist arriving to interview you. Would you please approach the food port and cuff up?"

"Yes, of course, Officer." Hannibal walked quietly to the opening, turned and offered his wrists. The officer cuffed him securely and attached a sort of leash to the cuffs to allow the door to be opened.

"Thank you, Doctor."

The officer was an older man, large, exceedingly polite and well-mannered. Hannibal guessed that was the reason this man had been assigned to him. He didn't look as though he rattled easily.

As Hannibal stepped out onto the tier Pearsall appeared nervous. The other gentleman was smiling.

Pearsall spoke first. "Doctor Lecter, this is Prime Minister Bashandi. Prime Minister…Doctor Hannibal Lecter."

Lecter nodded and smiled politely. "Please forgive me, Prime Minister…I am unable to shake your hand. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Bashandi set his hand on Hannibal's shoulder, a gesture of gratitude and trust.

"Doctor Lecter I cannot tell you how thankful I am for your cooperation. I fear my daughter is in tremendous jeopardy. Your help is my only hope."

"Not at all, Prime Minister, I am all to glad to assist you. I promise that your daughter will be returned to you very soon."

As the group moved through the prison, the guard's eyes did not leave Hannibal.

Hannibal's eyes were everywhere.

Pearsall directed the Prime Minister to enter the conference room first, then followed him into the room. There was a metal table bolted to the floor in the center of the room. The correctional officer unhooked the leash from the cuffs.

"Doctor Lecter do you see the circular metal fixture welded to the table?"

"Yes Officer, I can see it."

"I am going to release your cuffs and attach them to the table. I would like to ask you give me your word that you will allow this procedure."

"Certainly Officer."

The Officer unhooked the cuffs and paused.

"Would you like a moment to allow the circulation to return to your hands?"

Hannibal considered the offer and was pleased at the level of trust this officer showed.

"Thank you, that won't be necessary. I wouldn't want Director Pearsall to feel uncomfortable."

"I am charged with your comfort, Sir. Not Mr. Pearsall's. Please take a moment and check your wrists. I am concerned that the handcuffs may cause discomfort to your left arm. I see that you have had a very significant injury and I don't wish to exacerbate your condition."

Hannibal tilted his head, considering the situation. He rubbed his wrists and checked the site of his reattachment. It took Lecter less than a minute to process the situation and make a correct assessment.

"There has been no damage to the surgical site. I thank you for your concern and please, offer my dear friend Barney my very best wishes when next you speak."

The guard smiled as he proceeded to link Hannibal's cuffs to the welded mount on the table, shocked that from that limited interaction, Lecter had picked up on that friendship.

"You are a remarkable man, Doctor Lecter. I will indeed pass your good wishes along."

The officer stepped out of the room and closed the door, but remained just outside and watched from the window, more for Hannibal's protection than the other gentleman.

Pearsall spoke as he passed a folder across the table to Hannibal. "Doctor Lecter this is a copy of the order of commutation. It directly commutes every charge of which you have been convicted. You have been assigned an attorney and will be afforded the opportunity to speak with him after the psych profile has been completed, unless you would like to consult with him prior to the testing."

"I have no need of the attorney at this time. I trust that you will hold up your end of the bargain."

Bashandi spoke up, agitated that the process was taking too long.

"Doctor Lecter? Could you please identify the man known as the Chesapeake Ripper Reincarnate? Anything you could offer to us would help my daughter. I am concerned that all of the bureaucrats I have spoken to are more worried about paperwork or political agendas than saving the life of my daughter. Are you a father, Doctor Lecter?"

"Not yet, Prime Minister…soon. My wife is pregnant with our child."

Pearsall's eyes shot over to Hannibal. "Did you just say that Starling is pregnant with _your_ child?"

"Yes, Deputy Director. My wife is pregnant and it is my child."

"She said you would never rape her."

"She is my wife! Why would I need to rape her? Did you rape your wife to produce your daughter?"

"Don't you talk about my wife or my daughter you goddamned animal!"

"But you may feel free to accuse me of a crime against the woman I love?" Hannibal was livid and wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and choke the life out of Pearsall.

Bashandi verbally stepped between them. "Please, gentlemen this is about _my_ daughter."

He turned to Lecter. "As a new father you understand what I would do to protect her. If you know the name of the man…please, I beg of you tell me."

Hannibal folded his cuffed hands and calmly answered. "His name is Miggs…Stuart Miggs."

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	23. Chapter 23

**INTERVIEWS**

Pearsall stood as soon as Hannibal mentioned the name and immediately called Noonan to relay the information. At the end of the call he returned to the table and continued to question Hannibal.

"Is there anything you would like to add other than the name, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal's expression was as cool and fixed as a marble statue. Pearsall was rude in the extreme and that just wouldn't do. He would not continue to share information under these circumstances. "There is nothing at all that I wish to say to you Mr. Pearsall."

Prime Minister Bashandi understood Lecter's hesitation and shook his head disapprovingly at Pearsall.

"Mr. Pearsall, what would inspire Doctor Lecter to share information with us? Why would he assist in the reclamation of my daughter if you feel it is your personal right to offend his relationship with his wife and his personal integrity as a husband and as a man?"

Bashandi waved the correctional officer into the room. "Officer, could you please do me the personal favor of removing Doctor Lecter's handcuffs?"

Pearsall looked at the officer and shook his head.

Hannibal recognized the flash of panic in Pearsall's eyes and he immersed himself in the Deputy Director's discomfort. It was as if this emotional disturbance provided necessary sustenance for Hannibal.

"Prime Minister, I thank you for your confidence in me, however there is absolutely no way that Mr. Pearsall will allow that."

"And why would that be?" Bashandi looked directly at Pearsall as he asked Hannibal the question.

"It is because he is fearful, if I am no longer in restraints, that I may be tempted to kill him. I must say that at this moment, Mr. Pearsall's assessment is not far from the realm of human possibility."

Bashandi was impressed by Hannibal's candor and less than impressed with the comportment of Pearsall.

"Doctor Lecter, temptation aside, if I ask the officer to remove your handcuffs, will you give me your word, one father to another that you will refrain from violence?"

"You do indeed have my word, Mr. Prime Minister."

Bashandi waved to the officer and, as Pearsall's heart beat escalated to inhuman levels, Hannibal's restraints were removed.

Pearsall shifted nervously. He was well aware of Lecter's feelings regarding rudeness and understood that he had screwed up royally. He would either have to suck it up and apologize or Lecter would refuse to cooperate and he would be forced to pass the case to another agent. As much as it made the bile rise up the back of his throat, he chose the former.

"Excuse me, Doctor Lecter?"

"Yes, Deputy Director Pearsall."

"Please accept my apologies. I meant no disrespect to Agent Starling or yourself. It was inconsiderate and rude of me. I really am sorry and ask your forgiveness."

"On behalf on my wife, _Ex-Special Agent_ Starling, I accept your apology, thank you."

"Miggs…how are you associated with him?" Bashandi questioned.

Pearsall answered, though incorrectly. "Doctor Lecter killed his father."

Hannibal corrected him. "I did not kill Multiple Miggs, Mr. Pearsall and I have never claimed to, though I did witness his death with distinct pleasure. I merely suggested to him strongly after his disrespect to Clarice…that it would be better for him to die at his own hand than at mine."

"In what way was he disrespectful to your wife, Doctor Lecter?"

"Through the process of self-gratification, he collected semen and assaulted her with it."

"That is vile in the extreme." Bashandi was horrified by the explanation. "How did he die?"

Hannibal's crimson eyes sparked as he recalled the events of Miggs' death.

"It was actually quite a thing to watch. The pathetic excuse for a human being sniveled for most of the night, begging for his life. By morning the pleading had ceased and he was found gagging and gasping by the orderlies. He was removed from his cell just in time for me to watch him choke out his last pitiful breath from behind the glass of my own Spartan accommodations. The timing of his death was quite fortuitous as I would not have been able to bear witness to the event had he expired in his own cell."

"He choked…on what?" Bashandi was curious, the story too incredulous to imagine.

Pearsall answered. "He was so terrified of Hannibal that he choked to death after intentionally swallowing his own tongue."

Hannibal leaned forward, his steepled hands resting against his lips, and glared at Pearsall. "Hannibal is it? Are we so familiar that you are now comfortable addressing me by my Christian name?"

Pearsall froze. He was finding out just how unprepared he was to deal with Hannibal and was having difficulty maintaining his professionalism. Not to mention that an unrestrained Hannibal Lecter was an incredibly intimidating sight in the extreme. Again, Pearsall was forced to penitence.

"Excuse me, Doctor. I should not have addressed you by your first name without your permission."

"You are excused, Mr. Pearsall." Hannibal smiled inwardly, enjoying immensely the fact that he was able to keep Pearsall so completely and totally off balance.

"Doctor Lecter in your opinion, why do you believe this man, the son of Miggs, has been taking women and killing them?"

"He wishes to capture that which Clarice and I have captured. He wishes to find that one person who, knowing everything there is to know about him, all the good and all the bad will choose to love him. He kills those he has assessed will not."

Pearsall rolled his eyes. Both Bashandi and Hannibal recognized the disrespectful gesture. The Doctor, not one to let a sophomoric affectation such as this pass by unnoticed, instantly drew attention to it.

"Deputy Director, you may find it difficult to believe but Clarice Starling, though she may not have initially agreed to accompany me, has chosen to remain by my side. She was not forced to become my wife, nor was she forced to share my bed. I am unconcerned as to your opinion but I feel, to defend the honor of my wife, that I must inform you she was never forced to share her body with me, though if you will excuse my indiscretion, I do promise you, she shares it with me very, very willingly. As I am certain you will interview her, I warn you, she is exceedingly protective of our relationship, and of our child. I would be careful not to offend as I will indeed take offense for her and my reaction will be unmerciful in the extreme."

"Are you threatening me, Doctor Lecter?" Pearsall postured.

Hannibal's eyes narrowed reflecting his steely resolve. "No, I am not threatening you Deputy Director Pearsall. I am in fact, promising you."

Pearsall was terrified, overwhelmed and now understood that he was definitely in over his head and functioning rather unsuccessfully beyond his pay grade. He looked at his watch and tapped at the glass, directing the Prime Minister that the time was indeed, up.

"Mr. Prime Minister, our time with Doctor Lecter is at an end. The psychiatrist assigned to this case is scheduled to interview the Doctor momentarily. We can continue to gather information after the gentleman has concluded his interview."

Bashandi was not pleased with this outcome. "My daughter is running out of time, Sir."

_But we don't reckon time the same way do we…this is all the time you'll ever have._

Doctor Lecter stood and extended his hand to the Prime Minister.

"Mr. Prime Minister, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to return your daughter to you."

Bashandi grasped Doctor Lecter's hand and covered their grip with his remaining hand.

"I thank you, Doctor. It has not gone unnoticed what you have risked for my family. I pledge to you your safety, the safety of your wife and that of your unborn child. You have my word that whatever the outcome. I will not leave you to the mercy of those who would do you harm."

Hannibal lowered his head respectfully. "I thank you, Sir. We will indeed speak again very soon."

Pearsall nodded grudgingly to Lecter. "Doctor Lecter, I appreciate your cooperation. Excuse my…"

He couldn't find the word. Hannibal assisted finishing his thought.

"Excuse your… discourtesy, Mr. Pearsall?"

"Yes, please excuse my discourtesy. This case has been…difficult. Your assistance has been invaluable."

"For a _final _time… you have been excused, Mr. Pearsall."

Prime Minister Bashandi smiled at the way in which Hannibal accepted this last apology. He discharged Pearsall as if excusing a small child from the dinner table or as if dismissing a servant. It seemed to him that Lecter was a monarch waving away a serf. He nodded his approval to Lecter.

"Until we see each other again Doctor."

"Indeed until then, Mr. Prime Minister."

Pearsall waved at the guard. The correctional officer opened the door allowing Pearsall and Bashandi to exit.

Lecter was left sitting at the table. The officer returned moments later with another guard. The second guard was carrying a tray. On the tray there was a plate of freshly sliced fruit and an assortment of cheese. There were croissants and a carafe of espresso as well.

"Doctor Lecter, as our guest, we are allowed to provide you with a meal that is alternate to the food served to our residential population. Please enjoy this repast with my compliments and that of our mutual friend. The Doctor assigned to your case will be in shortly, at which time I will be forced to restrain your hands. Until that time, you will be free to enjoy your meal and move around this room at your discretion. If you are in need of bathroom facilities, the door in the back of the room is unlocked and available for your use."

"Thank you officer, your assistance and your grace are appreciated more than you can know." The guard smiled and nodded politely, locked the door and left Hannibal to his meal.

**CLARICE **

"Okay, Dee…let's go over this again…I was unconscious the entire time?"

"Of course you were! You can't go into that interview and tell them that you allowed Lecter to set this up and that you were in on it the entire time! He drugged you. He kept you here, in the duplex. I was unaware that you were being held here. He was withdrawing your blood and storing it to use. You were in his company unwillingly at first, but as time progressed, your relationship developed."

"They will claim Stockholm Syndrome."

"Hannibal already thought of that. Here he wrote you a note about it…wait I'll find it."

Ardelia flipped through the file Hannibal sent to her. She found a note, written by his hand, and gave it to Clarice. Clarice read it carefully.

"Dearest Clarice,

If you are reading this letter, I am in the company of your friends at the Bureau and you must prepare for your interview. It is extremely important they believe that during the time of my escape, you were drugged and wholly unaware of your surroundings. I do not wish you to appear complicit. I have provided a detailed journal that records dates of injections, the types of drugs and dosages allotted. I do not wish to have either You, Ardelia or Logan implicated in any way.

It is important that your courage and incorruptibility remain beyond reproach, though they will suggest the possibility of Stockholm syndrome to explain your empathy and love for me.

You may feel free to make it clear to those who question our relationship that the suggestion of such is an insult to our union as it suggests that I am the person of power in our marriage. We both know this to be categorically untrue as you are my life and I am ever your servant, my Love.

If there is a seat of power between us, it belongs to you, Clarice. I am at your mercy each and every day of our lives. You alone have dominion over me. You alone guide my hand. You alone stay my wrath.

You have my permission to share any of the intimacies of our marriage that you see fit. I will trust your judgment in that regard. Please forgive me for putting you in this position, Clarice. For the sake of our lives together and the sake of our child, I would risk all that I am and all that I have.

Remember, I am not alone for I know that I am loved. Remember, you are not alone... Our love grows within you.

Ever yours,

H

Clarice folded the letter and clutched it to her chest as if it were a source of power recharging her. She paused, briefly touched it to her lips and handed it back to Ardelia.

"Okay, Dee…just tell me what I have to do."

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	24. Chapter 24

**Welcome back my loyal friends! Thank you for your dedication **

**No it does not excite me…it pleases me! I hope this chapter pleases you!**

**LH**

**CHOICES**

Hannibal waited patiently for the arrival of the psychiatrist. He was actually looking forward to the process. This would be his first interaction with a mental health professional aware of his past, without the intent of mocking; at least not mocking that the Doctor would be aware of.

_This is going to be fun!_

Patiently, he sat with his eyes closed, and listened. Seconds later, he detected the approach of the guard and an individual he assumed to be the psychiatrist.

_It will be interesting to see if the Doctor wishes to conduct the interview with or without handcuffs._

The pair stood just outside the door speaking in very low tones. Moments later, the large door was unlocked and the correctional officer entered. Hannibal watched for non-verbal cues.

"Doctor Lecter, although I explained it was not necessary, the psychiatrist assigned to interview you is standing just beyond the door and would feel more comfortable if you were restrained. Would you allow me to place the handcuffs on your wrists and secure the cuffs to the table?"

Hannibal smiled_. Not a trusting man._

"If the gentleman wishes me to be placed in restraints, I will of course submit."

Hannibal offered his wrists and allowed the officer to link his hands to the center of the table. Seconds later the guard returned with the psychiatrist. Watching very carefully and assessing every movement, Hannibal evaluated the psychiatrist.

_Demanding handcuffs? Do we have trust issues? Not a good way to begin our relationship is it, Doctor? _

The appointed psychiatrist was carrying a briefcase. A tall, thin man, with a shock of red hair just beginning to grey spilling across his forehead, Hannibal guessed his age to be forty-five or fifty years old. He was wearing Khaki pants, a white shirt, brown tie, and a fleece vest with a utilitarian pair of shoes.

_No eye contact. No confidence. Clothing, practical but with no sense of style whatever .Very middle class L.L. Bean …a definite New Englander. _

Hannibal nodded a welcome and continued to seek eye contact. The therapist continued to avert his gaze. Hannibal noticed a pulse point on the gentleman's neck throbbing as if it would burst from beneath the skin. The therapist's discomfort pleased Hannibal greatly.

_Blood pressure rising, averting eye contact, voice soft and wavering… Your paralinguistic cues are showing, Doctor. _

"Forgive me, Sir. You have me at a distinct disadvantage. I am unable to stand and offer my hand to you. Please accept my apologies. It is not my intention to be discourteous. As you can see, I am indisposed."

The therapist placed his briefcase on the table just out of Hannibal's reach and spoke quietly, though he continued to avoid looking into Lecter's blazing eyes.

"Forgive me for having the restraints put on you. Perhaps as we build trust, we can revisit the issue. For now, I feel it is best that you and I both feel comfortable."

"Having manacles applied to my wrists and being shackled to a table is hardly conducive to my comfort Doctor. As I am aware the reputation of my past precedes me, I am all too happy to comply however let us make it clear that this is for _your_ comfort, not my own."

"Yes of course I agree and appreciate your cooperation. You mention the reputation of your past…that is an extremely interesting statement. Are you insinuating that your behavior in the present differs from your behaviors in the past?"

"There is no insinuation. It is a statement of fact."

The therapist was scribbling notes furiously. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a small digital recorder. He placed it directly in front of Hannibal.

"Doctor Lecter, for the purposes of the commutation of your sentence, may I record our session so that it can be reviewed by members of the pardon office and the White House?"

"Certainly, Doctor…by all means you may record the interview."

The therapist turned the recorder on. He was about to speak when Hannibal, seeking to disrupt the process for his own amusement, spoke first.

"Excuse me, how rude of me. Please allow me to formally introduce myself, Doctor Hannibal Lecter."

The therapist looked up, surprised at the introduction. He did not respond in kind.

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, watching and waiting. When it became obvious that no response was forthcoming, he continued to speak.

"I have introduced myself, Doctor. Both formality and decorum demands you do the same."

"My apologies, my name is Doctor Philip Burgess. It is a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Lecter. You commented that the actions of your past are incongruent with your present behavior. Could you please be specific?"

_So it begins. I hope you have prepared well, Doctor._

"You would like me to be specific in what way?"

"In whatever way you see fit."

Hannibal considered that comment a personal challenge. "Are you a married man, Doctor Burgess?"

_You don't want Hannibal Lecter in your head._

"Yes, I am."

_This is too easy._

"Do you behave as a married man in much the same way as you did prior to taking your vows?"

"No, of course I don't."

"No of course you don't and neither do I. My wife has been a very positive and powerful force in my life. Do you have similar feelings for your wife, Doctor Burgess?"

Burgess looked up momentarily. "Yes, Doctor Lecter, it is the same actually."

Hannibal shifted his hands one over the other rubbing his wrists together, the metal clasps pinching his skin slightly. Dr. Burgess looked down at Hannibal's wrist, obviously noticing his scar.

"As for my wife Clarice, there isn't a thing I would deny her. If you are aware of our history, you know that she was a former FBI agent and as such, though she loves me very much, the habits of my past are distasteful to her. I would not offend her sensibilities or disrespect her position as my spouse by committing an act that she would find abhorrent."

Burgess appeared confused. "Are you saying that you are no longer a cannibal, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal was relaxed and quite matter of fact about his explanation. "You question me as if the concept is impossible to comprehend. If my spouse were of a religion or belief that banned pork products, I would out of love and respect refrain from consuming such. Why would you assume this to be any different?"

It wasn't that Doctor Burgess was unconvinced. It was more that he really didn't understand the connection. "Isn't it quite different?"

Hannibal was adamant. He maintained eye contact as if willing Burgess to look up at him. The therapist's eyes never left the pad he was scrawling on.

"No, Doctor Burgess, it is precisely the same."

"Seriously you don't mean to suggest that the drive to kill and consume human flesh can be compared to eating pork?" Burgess questioned Hannibal but was not following the train of thought enough to comprehend Hannibal's responses. He was so busy writing down what was being said that he did not fully attend the meaning of it all.

Hannibal was enjoying the thrust and parry of the conversation. "Actually, the taste and texture are quite similar. The comparison is valid."

"But how have you been able to cope with the psychological drive?"

"To what drive are you referring?"

"The drive to commit murder and consume the flesh of the victim,"

"In my case it was a choice, Doctor…not a drive. The word drive suggests an urge or motivation that is not applicable in my case. I was not _driven_ to cannibalism. It was not an unavoidable course of action. It was a conscious choice and as a free thinking man in absolute control of my faculties I am fully capable of evaluating my options, and have the ability to make alternate choices."

"When was the last time you committed murder, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal's eyebrow arched. "Murder?"

Burgess stammered, careful not to offend. "Let me re… rephrase that question. When did you last cause the death of another human being?"

"The night of my escape, though had Paul Krendler received the appropriate medical attention the outcome would have been different."

"And before that time?" The therapist glanced up briefly, but upon meeting Hannibal's gaze, again looked away. He was uncomfortable directly questioning Hannibal about his crimes, perhaps worried of rousing his wrath.

Hannibal folded his hands loosely on the table and watched as beads of sweat pearled on the forehead of the psychiatrist. He could smell the fear, the anxiety emanating from every pore. Hannibal was actually quite entertained.

_Terrified of your patient? Are you too frightened to look me in the eyes, Doctor?_

Hannibal answered calmly as if referring to normal daily activities. There was no hint of guilt or remorse in his explanation.

"While in Florence, I took the lives of a Sardinian assassin and a corrupt police officer. Both were seeking my death."

"And the years following your escape from Tennessee and the deaths in Florence, were there any additional murders or deaths?"

"No, since that time, I have not taken the life of any person who did not seek my capture and death."

"Do you believe you are a threat to the public, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal considered the implications of this question very carefully as a simple 'no' would not be assessed as an honest response. Enigmatic as ever, his carefully measured response was honest and direct without offering the answer the therapist was anticipating.

"No more than the public is a threat to me."

The psychiatrist was confused by this answer. "Why is that?"

"Because I have a wife whom I love very much and she is carrying my child. That being the case, my life is far more precious to me. I am no longer the only person who will be forced to live with the consequences of my choices. My actions will dictate the quality of life I am able to provide for my family, thus my choices will reflect the need to provide for them and to protect them."

"What if someone were to threaten the safety of your wife or child?"

_Ah, is this an attempted trap, Doctor Burgess? Not very cleverly concealed I must say. You will have to do far better than that if your wish is to outsmart me._

Hannibal's maroon eyes sparkled as he turned the question back onto the therapist.

"That is a valid question and therefore, I must ask, what would you do if someone were to threaten the safety of your wife or child? Would you not attack? Might you not kill?"

"But I have never committed murder." The Doctor defended.

"That does not mean that you are incapable of doing so. If your wife or child were in jeopardy, and you had the capacity to stop the individual would you not use deadly force if it were your only option?"

The Doctor was forced to concede Hannibal's point.

"I might."

"And would that action of defense make you a murderer or a rational man defending his family?"

The therapist was now following Hannibal's point and did not want to concede. He was stoic.

"Please make an effort to answer honestly, Doctor Burgess. It isn't as if we don't both know what your answer will be as there is only one correct answer. What would that make you, a rational man defending his family or murderer?"

"It would make me rational man defending his family."

"And because of a promise I made to my wife, under those precise circumstances and those circumstances alone… I might as well."

The therapist's eyes shifted upward, finally making and maintaining eye contact.

Hannibal pursued this line of questioning to the only conclusion available.

"Therefore… what might that make me? Doctor Burgess?"

"Under those circumstances, I believe it would make you a rational man, Doctor Lecter."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in please." Hannibal answered, knowing it was the guard.

The officer opened the door. "Doctor Lecter it is time to return you to your accomodations."

"Accomodations? Will there be a mint on the pillow when I return?"

"Sorry, Sir, all out of mints but I'll see what I can arrange."

Hannibal turned to the therapist whom he had lead through the interview like a puppet dancing on a string.

"I thank you for your time, Doctor Burgess. It has been my pleasure."

"Mine as well, Doctor Lecter."

Doctor Burgess remained seated as Hannibal was lead from the room. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped copious amounts of sweat from his brow.

Doctor Lecter walked back to his cell in the company of the correctional officer.

_Thus far...it has been an amusing day._

**THE PHOTO SHOOT **

No one noticed Lloyd, clicking away with his cell phone, taking pictures of Hannibal being taken into custody. The heart wrenching images of Clarice running to his side to protect him…the SWAT team surrounding him like jackals, each photo more powerful than the previous.

Lloyd was proud of his photographic skills.

_The Tattler's gonna love these!_

Logan had done an excellent job, thundering around threatening and punching people. He created just enough of a distraction to allow Bowman to get the photographs Hannibal wanted.

Clarice was aware of the clandestine photographer, but forgot quickly when Hannibal asked her for assistance. She was so overwhelmed with the anguish of his situation that she totally forgot what the actual plan was. It wasn't until Lloyd showed up the next day with the photos that she remembered what Hannibal had intended.

"Jesus, Lloyd not the one where I'm putting the mask on his face, please, don't use that one it almost killed me."

"Hannibal was very specific Clarice. All the photos are to be delivered to Barney. He will sell them to that piece of crap editor at the Tattler. They will never pass up on this. They'll run them as soon as they get them! "

Hannibal was right in his assessment of Clarice. This plan went against every bit of intuition Clarice possessed and had she not promised to follow his instructions to the letter, she may have turned back from this plan.

"Dee, as soon as this hits the stands the Ripper will know we are alive."

Ardelia corrected Clarice.

"Girl, get ready 'cuz as soon as this hits the stands…_everyone_ will know you're alive, Clarice."

**Thank you to all my faithful friends who are reading and reviewing! You make every day a joy! Thank you so much **

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**Ta-ta**

**LH**


	25. Chapter 25

"Yeah, I really don't see how that's a good thing, do you?" Clarice paced nervously around the kitchen, obviously confounded by the plan. "I need to see Hannibal, Dee. Get Pearsall on the phone and see what the procedure is."

Ardelia reached out and touched Clarice's shoulder. "You can't visit him. He forbad it."

"Who the hell does Pearsall think he is?" Clarice stalked across the kitchen and threw her coffee mug into the sink smashing it to pieces. She was absolutely furious.

She and Hannibal had spent only minutes apart each day and hadn't realized how much she had come to rely on his presence. She needed him…Now.

"Clarice you don't understand it wasn't…"

Clarice interrupted Ardelia before she could finish her thought.

"Fuck Pearsall he doesn't have the right to stop me from seeing my own husband. I'll call that son of a bitch myself and tell him where he can..."

"Clarice!" Ardelia interrupted her friend's emotional tirade. "Pearsall didn't forbid it…Hannibal did."

Clarice looked at her friend, dumbfounded.

_Hannibal did? Hannibal doesn't want to see me? That can't be right…it can't be._

"Ardelia that can't be true…he wouldn't."

Lloyd Bowman shifted uncomfortably. This was getting personal and he was desperate to get out of the room and get out of that house.

Lloyd put the photos into the envelope. "Look Dee, I'm gonna drop these off at the hospital where Barney works. I'm just in the way here. I'll let myself out."

Ardelia waved Lloyd away and put her hands on Clarice's shoulders. She made eye contact and held Clarice's attention, trying to refocus and calm her.

"Clarice, it would kill him to have you see him like that again. He knew you would be emotional and didn't think he would be able to watch you walk away from him in tears, knowing that he couldn't comfort you."

Ardelia saw the tears welling in Clarice's eyes. She put her arms around her friend but the embrace was of little comfort. Clarice Starling was inconsolable.

"Do you know what our last moment together was, Dee? What I did to my husband before they dragged him away? I strapped that goddamned mask to his face! I took that monstrous mask and I covered the face of the man I love with it. That was the last thing I did for him…to him… Jesus Christ…I can't do this…I can't do this. I don't even remember if I told him I loved him."

The tears were streaming down her face, her body shaking from utter despair.

Ardelia could only hold her. "Don't worry, Clarice…he knows…he knows."

Lloyd left the women standing in the kitchen. Logan had come down the stairs as Lloyd was getting ready to leave. "Hey what's up Bowmeister! Where are you going? I thought we were all gonna do breakfast?"

"Yeah, change of plans…Clarice just found out that Hannibal doesn't want her to visit him at the prison. She's having a bit of a meltdown. I wouldn't go in the kitchen if I were you. I think she's going to need a little time."

Logan stood on the bottom stair and raked his hand back and forth through his hair, obviously confused. "Dude, he's totally fucking alone…I don't get it… why wouldn't he want her to visit him?"

"My guess would be that he wants her to see him only as her husband, not as Hannibal the Cannibal again. Not to mention a prison is no place for a pregnant woman."

Logan shook his head. "Yeah okay, I get that but…it's kind of cold blooded. She really loves him."

Lloyd opened the door. "And I'm sure he really loves her…that's why he won't see her…not like that."

"I see what you mean." Logan was a little depressed, thinking about Clarice and Hannibal separated. "Dude…this sucks."

Lloyd agreed. "And it's probably gonna suck a whole lot more before it gets any better, my friend."

Lloyd got in his car thinking to himself that in all the time he had investigated Lecter's case, Hannibal, the man, never seemed like a real person to him. He seemed Homeric…mythic, but seeing Clarice, in tears, absolutely devastated, obviously in love and in so much pain at their separation…suddenly, in Lloyd's eyes, he became the most human of _all_ men.

**THE TATTLER**

Barney was chosen to deliver the photos because, aside from Clarice, Hannibal trusted him above all others. Not to mention that in all of his dealings with Lecter's memorabilia, he was quite astute at the business aspects of this sort of dubious transaction. He would not be undercut or cheated.

"No, Sir. When I said one million dollars I meant one million dollars, but if you want to barter, I will be more than happy to shop these photos around a bit more. I'm sure the National Enquirer would pay closer to two million for them."

The editor was salivating at the sight of the photos. Barney could see the dollar signs dancing around the man's head as he imagined the copies of the Tattler, with Clarice Starling kissing Hannibal Lecter through the bars of his mask, flying off the shelves.

The man leaned forward. "Will you take a check?"

Barney smiled and shook his head. "You're kidding right? No checks… you can have the money divided equally and wired to a series of accounts that I have set up specifically for this transaction."

The editor picked up the phone and spoke to a representative at the bank. He handed the phone to Barney who very efficiently relayed all of the banking information, including routing numbers and the account numbers Hannibal had delineated.

He finished speaking, handed the phone back to the editor and took out his blackberry. Quickly and efficiently he checked the balances of each of the four offshore accounts Hannibal had created for this purpose. When Barney was satisfied that the money had indeed been deposited, he stood, shook the editor's hand and gave him the envelope teeming with photos.

"Thank you, Sir. It has been a pleasure doing business with you. Have a nice day."

The editor spilled the photos out across his desk, thrilled at the acquisition. "Oh thanks to you, I will…I most certainly will!"

**PROGRESS REPORT**

Doctor Burgess had instructions to report to the FBI offices at Quantico as soon as his interview with Doctor Lecter was over. He hurried to the location knowing that representatives from the pardon office, the State Department, Justice, the White House, the Egyptian Prime Minister, and of course, the FBI would either already be present or would be arriving soon.

He pushed the door of the conference room open. Much to his dismay, everyone had already been seated and anxiously awaited his report.

"I am sorry to leave you waiting ladies and gentlemen. I have just finished my interview with Doctor Lecter and got here as quickly as the interstate allowed."

Pearsall took control of the situation. "So, what did you come up with Doctor Burgess? Did you conclude that the homicidal freak is still a homicidal freak?"

Burgess slid quickly into a seat and poured himself a glass of water from a carafe in the center of the table. He took several quick gulps, loosened his tie and opened his notes.

"Actually no, that was not my conclusion and though I was not the psychiatrist of record when Doctor Lecter was deemed to be insane…I must say that he appears to me to be intelligent and actually quite an insightful man. Though I would prefer more time to evaluate him, I believe him to be quite sane."

Pearsall shook his head. "Well, I guess in the land of the blind…the one eyed man is king."

Prime Minister Bashandi raised a hand to speak. "Excuse me, gentlemen…if Hannibal Lecter is indeed sane, does that mean that he is no longer a threat? If so, when will we be able to collect more information from him? I would like to remind you, time is exceedingly precious to me."

The lawyer from the Office of Pardons needed a definitive response. "What is your recommendation, Doctor Burgess? Do you believe that Hannibal Lecter will ever take another life? Can a cannibal be…cured?"

"If we are to believe Doctor Lecter's explanation of his pathology, no…I do not believe he will take another life and yes, I believe that he has indeed given up the practice of cannibalism."

Pearsall sat wide eyed and staring at the psychiatrist. He didn't believe there was any possibility that Hannibal Lecter could be deemed a sane man. "You're kidding, right?"

The psychiatrist sorted through his notes and glanced up at Pearsall. "No, I am not. He knows right from wrong, he understands the consequences of his actions and is quite motivated not to reoffend."

The representative from the white house needed more affirmation. "Excuse me, Doctor Burgess, could you please tell me on what facts do you base your opinion that Hannibal Lecter will not reoffend."

Doctor Burgess looked the man directly in the eye and with absolute certainty answered.

"I base my evaluation on the fact that Hannibal Lecter is not only in love with and dedicated to his wife, Clarice Starling, but that his wife is pregnant with the couple's first child. His only concern is to provide a safe and nurturing environment for his new family. I believe that as long as he remains with Clarice Starling… he will absolutely not re-offend."

Pearsall drummed his fingers nervously on the conference table. "Are you confident enough about Lecter that you would be willing to submit an affidavit to that effect?"

"I will be quite comfortable submitting an affidavit to include in the pardon application as soon as I finish one last interview."

Bashandi was desperate to move the process along. "Who else do you need to interview?"

"I need to interview Hannibal Lecter's wife… Clarice Starling."

**HANNIBAL ALONE**

Hannibal Lecter sat in his cell staring at the blank walls. He had enough of an intellectual library to absorb his attention through endless hours of solitude, but he was not interested in any of the things that would normally have occupied his thoughts. The total sum of his consciousness centered on thoughts of his wife.

_What are you doing now, my Love? Are you thinking of me? Are you as lost as I?_

Throughout the months of married life with Clarice, Hannibal had grown quite accustomed to her company. He missed her scent and the sound of her voice. He missed her footsteps bounding joyfully throughout the house as he read or played the piano. He missed her touch and the nightly weight of her body as she slept soundly against him, her arms around him...her head resting on his chest.

_People will say we're in love. _

At home in Argentina, even when they were physically apart he could feel her presence. In their home they were never far from one another. Here in this place, Hannibal could not feel her presence…all he could feel was a profound pain in the center of his chest, a bottomless loss, his soul aching and empty for want of her.

_Would you stay with me in my prison cell and hold my hand, Clarice. We could have some fun!_

Hannibal closed his eyes and recalled their very first meeting in Baltimore, Clarice so young and so full of life. She had something that no one else had in his presence…confidence. She was not intimidated by him. She challenged him. He could detect no fear in her. Instead of fear, there was anticipation in her eyes; a fire within her that Hannibal wanted for himself. Though he touched her only briefly in Memphis, that slight contact ignited sensations within him that kept him longing for her, waiting for her, wanting her, all those years ago.

_You were so very brave…my Clarice. Are you being brave now? Surely they have told you that you cannot see me. What you do not know is…if you were to come, I would not be able to continue in this and I must see it through to the end, for your sake and the child's…not my own._

He had been in that first cell for more than eight years…after the attack on the nurse, he had seen only men. He missed the company of women. He missed the sound of them…the smell of them. But Clarice was not just any woman. When _she_ arrived it mattered little to him that Crawford dangled her like a carrot in front of him. What mattered was that for a few minutes out of the day, he was in her company and that was enough. He longed to see her then…he longed even more to see her now.

Hannibal turned over on the cement bunk serving as his bed. Unless Pearsall arrived for more information he would be alone, aside from food deliveries, for the remainder of the day and evening. He closed his eyes, folded his hands across his chest and tried to stay the utter anguish of loss he was feeling without his wife by his side.

_Hannibal Lecter was alone in his cell… alone with his sorrow… alone with thoughts of Clarice._

**Thank you to all my faithful friends who are reading and reviewing! You make every day a joy. You are truly appreciated! To my new friends, thank you for reading. Drop me a note and say hello!**

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**Ta-ta**

**LH**


	26. Chapter 26

**Welcome back dear friends!**

**DECISIONS**

Pearsall called Ardelia and asked her to bring Clarice in for the meeting with Doctor Burgess. Clarice's response was plain and simple. No…well, not just No... but, Hell No!

"What the hell do you mean she refuses to come in, Agent Mapp? She's your friend, drag her ass in!"

Ardelia covered the phone with her hand and turned to Clarice.

"He is not pleased. He wants me to drag you in."

Clarice sat calmly at the kitchen table with her arms defiantly crossed.

"You tell that son of a bitch I won't talk to a single soul about this case until I can talk to my husband, face to face, not through any goddamned glass either. If I can't see Hannibal, alone in a room without the FBI involved, I won't come in and I won't talk to anyone."

Ardelia uncovered the phone and prepared to tell Pearsall what she knew he would not want to hear.

"Yeah, well Sir the thing is she wants to see Hannibal. If you can get that arranged, as soon as she talks to her husband, she'll talk to your psychiatrist. If not…her pregnant ass isn't going anywhere."

Ardelia believed she could hear Pearsall seething through the phone. She leaned on the kitchen sink and awaited his response.

"Look Mapp, Lecter left specific instructions that no one aside from the participants in the case be allowed access to him. No visitors. No exceptions. If we lose his cooperation, we lose the girl. Tell that to Starling."

Ardelia felt she could answer that herself. Clarice could care less about anyone or anything but Hannibal, but she relayed the message.

"Clarice, he said your hubby was specific…no visitors…no exceptions."

"Then no interview…no exceptions."

"Pearsall thinks the girl might die."

Clarice didn't answer. She merely stared blankly at Ardelia as if her mind could easily be read. It could.

"Yeah, she doesn't care. She wants to see Hannibal. Get it done and I'll have her there ASAP."

Pearsall's voice boomed through the phone.

"Jesus Christ this is ridiculous! I'll talk to the crazy bastard and see if I can get him to change his mind."

"Thank you, Sir. We'll wait for your call."

Ardelia hung up the phone and turned to Clarice.

"Okay, he's going to talk to Hannibal. We'll have an answer within the hour."

"Just take me down there, Dee. Hannibal was just trying to protect me. He really wants to see me."

Ardelia grabbed her cell phone and texted Pearsall that they were on the move and to text her with Hannibal's response.

Pearsall arrived at the prison, checked his cell, and shook his head.

_You've gotta be kidding me! They probably beat me here._

He moved quickly through the entry, flashed his FBI credentials, and was taken directly to Lecter's cell.

The correctional officer opened the food port and spoke quietly, unsure because of his stillness if Hannibal was awake or asleep.

"Excuse me, Doctor Lecter…I'm sorry for disturbing you. Deputy Director Pearsall is here to see you. May I open you cell and allow him to enter?"

Hannibal sat up quickly.

_Allow him to enter? Getting brave are we Deputy Director?_

"Yes, of course officer."

Hannibal spun on his bunk but didn't feel the need to stand. He watched carefully as the door opened.

Pearsall walked in and stood quietly in the center of the room. He had made several mistakes in handling Lecter during their previous interaction and he was determined not to make the same errors.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Lecter." Pearsall said calmly, his vocalizations not at all reflecting the sheer terror he was feeling. He would show trust if it killed him…and he thought it just might.

_Don't tear my face off you crazy fuck…let's play nice._

Lecter could smell the fear, but was impressed that Pearsall was attempting to show a level of trust that the psychiatrist had not.

Pearsall turned to the correctional officer.

"That will be all, Officer. I'll knock on the door when I'm ready to leave."

Hannibal smiled inwardly. _Alone in the room with the monster, Mr. Pearsall…I'm impressed._

Hannibal did not move from his bunk. Pearsall stood in the center of the room. He twitched slightly when the tumbler to the lock spun, trapping him in the cell with Hannibal. Lecter smiled, thoroughly enjoying Pearsall's obvious discomfort.

"May I offer you a seat, Mr. Pearsall? The accommodations are minimal, but adequate. Though I am not certain many more of your cooperating witnesses are forced to endure such hospitality."

Pearsall took the only other seat available. The metal chair bolted to the desk within striking distance of Lecter.

"You'd be surprised at the accommodations some of our other witnesses have had to endure."

"Yes. I am certain I would at that. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Pearsall shifted uncomfortably on the stool. "Your wife is refusing to cooperate. She won't speak to the psychiatrist. Without that interview, the pardon office will not send your file to the White House."

"On what did Clarice base this refusal?"

"She has been banned from seeing you as per your instruction and she is not at all pleased about it. In fact, Doctor Lecter…she's on her way here right now. If you were to rescind your instructions and allow her to visit with you, we will be able to move forward. If not…I don't know what our next move will be. The psychiatrist will only clear you once he has spoken to Clarice. Kind of a Catch-22 situation."

"Yes…did you say that Clarice is on her way now?"

"You know her better than I do Doctor and even I know there is no way, aside from arresting her and tossing her in a cell of her own, that I am going to be able to keep her out of here."

Hannibal smiled and bit his lower lip to stop from laughing. The sight of an obviously amused Hannibal Lecter caught Pearsall quite off guard.

"It is true…my wife is extremely determined. If she has set her mind to something it is quite impossible to dissuade her. She is pregnant and quite emotional. It was unfair of me to ask this of her, especially without consulting her. I fear I am in the proverbial dog house."

Pearsall nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to be you right now…trust me she isn't pleased."

"Though I am certain it is difficult for you to imagine, Clarice loves me very much and is quite protective of me, as I am of her. May I ask a favor of you, Deputy Director Pearsall?"

"Sure, if you'll do me the favor of seeing your wife so we can move this process along."

"Yes, of course I will see her as soon as she arrives."

"Then, if your favor is in my power, I'll take care of it."

"Could you please be certain that my wife is well protected? I fear this situation is about to escalate dramatically and her welfare is my one and only concern. I would have her safe. Can you attend to that? I would consider it a personal favor and I would be in your debt."

"I'll put a couple of agents on her to make sure she stays out of trouble."

Pearsall's cell phone went off signaling a text. He checked it, quickly responded and placed the phone in his pocket.

"I hope you are ready to defend yourself, Doctor. Your wife is on her way up."

Hannibal nodded. "Normally, if I were penitent I would face her with gourmet chocolates and a candlelit dinner. Perhaps jewelry as well, if the offense demanded such."

"Sorry, Doc…you're on your own." Pearsall knocked on the door and the officer let him out.

Hannibal sat bolt upright on his bunk, waiting for Clarice. Several minutes passed before there was another tap at the door.

"Come." Hannibal responded. He could smell the scent of her from beneath the door. His heart raced.

The officer pushed the large door open and allowed Clarice to enter.

"Take as long as you like, Mrs. Lecter. When you knock on the door, I'll open it. Until then, enjoy your privacy. You will not be disturbed."

Clarice nodded her thanks and smiled. She had never been called Mrs. Lecter before. She liked the sound of it.

Hannibal stood and lowered his head. "Forgive me, my Love. This process has been…difficult."

He was expecting her anger and was more than willing to accept it. Instead she rushed across the small space and into his arms. Neither spoke. He simply held her, binding her to him as tightly as he could manage. They sat on the bunk, leaning against the cold stone wall, holding each other.

"I needed to talk to you, H. I need you to explain to me why it is a good thing that the entire world is about to find out that we are not only both alive, but together."

She placed her head on his chest, comforted by the beat of his heart.

"I warned that this would go against your instincts, Clarice."

"It sure as hell does and I would feel a hell of a lot better about it if I knew why."

"Clarice… aside from the FBI and those law enforcement officials assigned to the case, does anyone else know that I am currently occupying this cell?"

Clarice sat up and seriously considered the question put to her. She reached for his hand and held it.

"No…no one knows, H…Why is that important?"

"It is important, my lovely wife, because if no one knows I am here, what is to prevent my current captors from holding me indefinitely?"

"We have an agreement."

Hannibal took her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes.

"Clarice, the offer of commutation is only valid if they find the girl alive and if they find me sane. Both pieces of the puzzle must be in place for this plan to come to fruition. If the girl is not recovered safely it can simply be said that I remain a threat, at which point, they have me and they may keep me."

Clarice's eyes widened. She knew he had placed himself in jeopardy but until that moment, sitting in his cell with him…she hadn't allowed herself to fully realize just how much.

"That's why you didn't want me to come here? You were afraid they weren't going to let you go."

Hannibal sighed deeply and smoothed his hand over her thigh.

"Yes, Clarice. In the event that they do not release me…I did not want you to remember me like this. You are pregnant and I am concerned about your safety and the safety of our child. I know how difficult this has been for you. I would spare you pain if it is in my power to do so."

"It's a lot more painful when you isolate yourself from me, H. I keep telling you, you are not alone anymore. I'm your wife. I'm by your side…no matter what."

"That fact is a constant comfort to me whether you are physically present or not."

Hannibal lifted Clarice's chin and began to kiss her. She put her arms around his neck and held him to her. They remained this way for several minutes, the kisses soft and tender. Both partners expressed their love for one another without words.

Though they were careful to not escalate their passions, Hannibal shifted uncomfortably. His physical response to his wife, especially without the ability over the last two days to find relief in the expression of that passion, caused some distress.

Clarice noticed and pulled away from him.

"I'm making this harder on you aren't I, H?"

He winked and flashed a wicked smile. "You have no idea how much."

Clarice slapped him playfully. "I didn't mean it like that! You are incorrigible!"

Hannibal's expression shifted and took on a much more serious tone.

"Clarice, I have asked Mr. Pearsall to assign agents to protect you. You must remain vigilant. You must be extremely cautious from this point on. You know what is going to happen when the Tattler hits the stands tomorrow."

"The proverbial shit is going to hit the fan."

"Your words are profane and profound as usual, my Love."

There was a slight commotion just outside the door as Pearsall was attempting to gain access to the cell.

The Correctional Officer assigned to Lecter stood outside, waiting patiently for Clarice. He would not allow Pearsall access.

"Open that door, Officer. I need Starling out here now for an interview."

"I will not open this door, Mr. Pearsall. Doctor Lecter and his wife are entitled to some privacy and I will afford them that small luxury. Mrs. Lecter will leave when she has finished her conversation with her husband."

"Since when does an inmate get a freaking conjugal visit in his own cell?"

"It is not a conjugal visit and Doctor Lecter is not an inmate. He is our guest at _your _behest. If you do not like the accommodations we have provided for him, perhaps he can stay at your home and keep your wife company while you're at work."

"Don't be such a smart ass…fine. I'll wait."

Pearsall paced up and down the tier impatiently.

Hannibal could hear the entire conversation though it was far too muted for Clarice to detect.

"Deputy Director Pearsall is growing impatient my Love. Perhaps it is time for you to leave. You may return whenever it pleases you. I will keep you from me no longer."

He stood and extended a hand for her to do the same. She sat on the bunk, shaking her head.

"No…not yet, H… I'm not ready to go."

"You will never be truly ready to go, Clarice. Better to leave now and get that interview underway so the pardon application can be processed. There is one more piece to this puzzle and I will not set it into motion until the confirmed document approving my sentence commutation is in hand."

"What is the final piece of the puzzle, H?"

Hannibal crossed the small space and reached for an envelope on the metal desk. It was sealed and the name Clarice was written flawlessly in Hannibal's impeccable copperplate script.

"Do not open this until you are safely at home, Clarice. It is for your eyes only, not the psychiatrist or the FBI. You may share what you wish with your friends, but at home only…understood."

"Yes, H…understood."

Hannibal took her by the hand and led her to the door. He knocked on it firmly and just before it opened fully, he kissed her a final time.

"I love you, H."

"And I love you as well, Clarice. No matter what happens…never forget how much."

The door to the cell now tightly closed, as the lock engaged, Hannibal returned to his bunk, renewed.

**HER INTERVIEW**

Clarice walked quietly beside Pearsall to the interview room. She did not speak and was not comfortable in his presence.

Pearsall spoke first. "Can I ask you something, Starling?"

"You can ask anything you wish, Mr. Pearsall. Whether or not I choose to answer remains to be seen."

"Do you _really_ love Hannibal Lecter?"

They arrived at the door. Clarice paused before going in. She looked Pearsall in the eye and, without blinking stated very firmly, so there would be no question in Pearsall's mind.

"He's my husband and he's the father of my child. I love him now. I will love him always. He is my life."

Pearsall opened the door and allowed Clarice to enter.

"I guess there's no accounting for taste." He commented. She glared at him.

"The same might be said for your lovely wife, _Clint_."

She brushed past Pearsall and walked directly to Doctor Burgess, already seated at the same table Hannibal had been chained to hours earlier. Clarice shook the doctor's hand and took her seat. She flipped the hoop that was welded to the bracket in the center.

"Did you have my husband shackled to this, or did you show trust enough to face him unrestrained?"

Burgess was surprised by her reference to her husband being restrained.

"It wasn't a matter of trust. It was a safety issue."

"Whose safety are you referring to…certainly not Hannibal's?"

"No, I was referring to my own safety. I was, at the time only familiar with your husband through what I had seen in the press and on the news."

"I'm curious, Doctor… now that you have met him and spoken to him has your opinion changed at all."

"Yes, actually I found him to be pleasant and quite cooperative."

"Not the blood thirsty lunatic everyone ascribes him to be, is he?"

"No. I was actually quite surprised by that. He is an intelligent and engaging man and he is quite dedicated to your safety and well- being. He loves you very, very much."

Clarice shifted in her seat, her eyes never leaving the therapist. "He has given up everything for me."

"It could be said that you, too have given up everything for him as well."

"If I gave anything up for him I did it gladly. He is my life."

"How did you come to leave with him?"

_Here we go…remember what he told you to say._

"I am not fully able to explain how."

"Why is that?"

"I was not conscious the entire time. The facts are somewhat hazy."

"Were you drugged?"

"Yes."

"Hannibal drugged you?"

"Yes."

"For the purposes of?"

"One would assume the purpose was to fake my death so that no one would come looking for me after he faked his own death. He knew I wanted to be with him and he didn't want me to be complicit in the situation so he took matters into his own hands. Hannibal surmised correctly that we would be safe if we were presumed dead. The FBI doesn't chase ghosts that I'm aware of."

The doctor scribbled notes furiously.

"When you realized you were permanently in the company of Doctor Lecter, were you frightened?"

"No. I was thrilled. I've never been afraid of Hannibal."

The therapist looked up from his notes shocked at this comment. "Never? You can honestly say that you have never been afraid of Hannibal Lecter?"

Clarice leaned forward across the table, her hands clasped much as her husband's had been hours earlier.

"I have never been afraid of Hannibal. I have felt safe and more secure with him than I have ever felt before with anyone else…ever."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because he is the most moral man I have ever met and he has never lied to me. There is not another person alive that I would trust more. You would have seen it yourself had you un-cuffed him. If he gives you his word…he keeps it. "

"Has Hannibal recently shown any predilection toward his previous habits?"

"What do you mean? Killing people or eating them?"

"Either."

"Don't be ridiculous. First of all we are never one without the other. Secondly, he knows I would leave him if he did. No, he has made adjustments that suit his predatory habits."

"What adjustments has he made?"

"He hunts."

"Gun…bow...?"

"His Harpy."

"Is that his weapon of choice?"

"Yes, it is."

"Where does he keep it?"

She wanted to say '_In his pants'_ but didn't think he would get that she was joking.

"Either I have it with me or it is kept in the drawer of his nightstand, beside our bed."

"He lets you hold it?"

_Hell yes he lets me hold it! It takes two hands…probably not the same for you though, it is Doc?_

She couldn't resist being a little provocative. This was just too, too easy!

"Yup…he lets me hold it whenever I want…He lets me hold a lot of things." Clarice teased amused at the process and enjoying it thoroughly. She was certain Hannibal had this idiot jumping through hoops for him.

"You stated that you share a bed with Doctor Lecter."

"We are married and I am having his baby. I didn't get pregnant through Immaculate Conception, Doctor Burgess. His incarceration is the first night I have not slept in his arms since leaving the States several months ago."

"And forgive my bluntness, but your sexual relationship with your husband is adequate?"

"I don't know if I would define my love life with Hannibal as adequate."

"Explain please."

"He was locked up a very long time, Doctor. He is far more active than most men…especially for his age."

"You have relations with him how frequently would you estimate?"

"I don't have to estimate. Last night was only the second night since we have been together that we did not consummate our relationship."

"That certainly is much more than adequate. Do you find his libido to be a problem?"

"No I find his libido to be challenging, but very, very entertaining."

"Then he is a sensitive lover. Your needs are met."

"More than I could ever have imagined or could have had the right to expect."

"When this situation is resolved, what is your intention, Ms. Starling?"

"_Mrs. Lecter,_ thank you, Doctor Burgess. My intention is to return to my home with my husband, to have his baby and to live our lives."

"Do you ever see yourself leaving Hannibal Lecter?"

"The only thing that will separate me from Hannibal is death. Until one of us passes from this life…I will spend every day by his side and every night in his arms."

Clarice smiled as the psychiatrist closed his pad and placed it in his briefcase.

"It has been a pleasure, Mrs. Lecter. I must say that this has been a very eye opening experience."

"Can I ask what your recommendation to the pardon office will be, Doctor Burgess, I would like my husband released as soon as possible and I am certain your word will carry the greatest weight."

"I will recommend that the pardon board commute your husband's sentence. While he may have had significant mental health issues in the past…I believe you have been the answer to whatever it was that drove him to his crimes. There is only one circumstance by which I see your husband reoffending."

"What circumstance would that be, Doctor?"

"If your life were in any way threatened, Mrs. Lecter… I would fear for the man that had to face him."

Clarice nodded an acknowledgement. Hannibal still battled his demons…he always would, but If she were threatened, nothing would restrain those demons and nothing would contain Hannibal's rage. What Clarice did not know was how very soon she would be threatened…how very soon Hannibal would have to face those raging demons and just how monstrous would become her husband's revenge.

**Thank you to all my faithful friends who are reading and reviewing! You make every day a joy. You are truly appreciated! To my new friends, thank you for reading. Drop me a note and say hello! Taylor say hello to Mum for me! You are awesome!**

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**Ta-ta**

**LH**


	27. Chapter 27

**GIFTS**

Barney arrived at the duplex at the appointed time. He was carrying boxes of pizza and balanced two cardboard carriers with bottles of beer on top. His back pocket contained several letters from Hannibal.

He used the handle of the door to balance the pizza boxes and ring the bell, careful not to shift the boxes and upend the beer. He waited patiently for Clarice or Ardelia to answer.

Much to the older man's dismay, Logan opened the door. "Hey Barnstormer's here and he's got the pizza! Now it's a party!"

Barney cringed.

_Barnstormer? What is it with this guy and the nicknames? _

"Hello Logan. Can you give me a hand and grab the beer? I don't want to crush the pizza."

"Hell, yes! Hey Bowmeister! We got beer!" Logan lifted the beer from the boxes and swung the carriers away as if they were his dancing partner.

Bowman shook his head. _Great…just great._ He put on his happy face and smiled.

Ardelia, watched as Logan handed a beer to Lloyd shook her head disapprovingly at him. "Really Lloyd? Why don't you just sack up and tell him."

"Tell me what?" Logan asked as he placed the remaining beer on the coffee table, beside the pizza.

"Logan, Lloyd is not a big beer kinda guy." Ardelia answered much to Lloyd's embarrassment.

"What are you Bowmeister a fucking merlot kind of guy?"

"Kind of." Lloyd muttered under his breath, his heart sinking as Logan swept the beer out of his hand.

"No problem Bowmeister! That's just more beer for me and the Barnstormer!" Logan called into the kitchen. "Hey Clarice, grab the wine for you and Dee but bring an extra glass for Bowmeister. He's drinking with the chicks tonight!"

"Thanks a lot, Ardelia." Bowman mumbled. "Just kill me why don't you."

"Don't overact Lloyd. It isn't a big deal…really."

Logan returned with paper plates for the pizza. He slapped Lloyd on the back. "Don't worry Bowmeister. Hannibal drinks wine and I think he's a total pimp! You're still a manly man in my eyes!"

Bowman finally smiled, feeling a little better being compared to Hannibal.

Clarice came into the room carrying the wine and two glasses. She handed Ardelia the bottle and a glass. She handed the second glass to Lloyd.

"No wine for you, Clarice?" Bowman asked

"No, I don't want to take any chances with the baby."

She smiled when she saw Barney. For years, he had been her connection to Hannibal.

"Hey Barney, did you get all of that done today?"

"Hey Clarice, yeah all done. The story and the pictures are running tomorrow."

"Did you get for them what you thought you might?"

"Yes, I did. I got a million for them."

"That's a ton of money. What's Hannibal gonna do with it, buy a fucking castle or something?" Logan joked.

Barney stood up and handed each of them, Logan, Bowman and Ardelia an envelope with their names scrolled in Hannibal's copperplate.

"This envelope contains instructions and an account number that accesses an offshore bank account. Each of you has access when you change the password Hannibal chose for you to a password of your own. All of the directions are included as well as the beginning balance."

"What's this for?" Ardelia asked.

"Clarice is more qualified to answer that than I am." Barney answered.

"It's a gift from Hannibal, a thank you for your friendship and your help. We don't want or need the money from the photos and H thought it would be nice to give something to you all for your loyalty."

"Hannibal doesn't want any of the money…why the hell not?" Logan asked, incredulous.

"We don't need it. Hannibal came from a very wealthy aristocratic family. Some years after the war, he was able to access his father's family accounts in Lithuania and his mother's family accounts in Milan. That money, in addition to what he saved over the years…believe me I've seen the balances and he has more than we can possibly spend. We both thought it would be nice to do this. Please, I know sometimes Hannibal can be…excessive, but this is something that means a great deal to us both."

Logan was amazed. He continually turned the envelope over, running his hand over Hannibal's script. "This guy gets cooler all the time…aristocratic…what was he a duke or something?"

Clarice smiled as she picked up a slice of pizza and bit into it. "He's a Count, actually."

Logan gagged on his beer. "Dude, no way. He really is a Count?"

Clarice covered her mouth careful not to spit the pizza out, laughing over Logan's response. "Yeah…he really is, Count Hannibal Lecter VIII."

"Well, you might just be carrying number nine around inside you now!" Logan laughed.

Ardelia wasn't at all comfortable accepting the magnanimous gesture. "How much is in each account, Clarice?"

"Quarter mil." Starling answered matter of factly.

"A quarter mil? Do you mean two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?" Ardelia was more than overwhelmed by the gesture.

"Yeah Dee…don't make a big deal about it."

"Jesus, Clarice…it's too much."

Bowman sat without saying a word. He simply stared at the envelope with his name in Hannibal's handwriting.

_This is freaking surreal!_

Barney was the only person in the room other than Clarice who was totally unaffected by the gesture, though he had received the same gift. He opened the pizza box and pulled out a slice.

"I don't know about any of you but when Hannibal Lecter gives me a gift, just like he gave us all today, I thank him and I move on. Anything more or less than that would be rude and we all know how the good doctor feels about rude!"

Bowman finally spoke. "But… all I did was snap a few photos with my cell phone."

Clarice spoke very softly. "Lloyd you are the reason we are here. You found out about the sentence commutation and if that works out…we'll never have to run again. That's priceless my friend. Now I hate to be a total drag but the pregnant lady is exhausted so I'm going to go to bed. Tomorrow is going to get crazy so I'll need the sleep. Y'all enjoy your party."

Clarice excused herself and went up to her bedroom. She reached into her pocket, withdrew the letter from Hannibal and tugged the neatly folded paper out of the envelope. She still had the same anticipation reading his letters as she did the very first time they corresponded.

If Hannibal took the time to write something down…it was important. She sat in the chair by the window, remembering the day she came home to discover him sitting there.

_You scared the hell out of me, H but it was a good kind of scared._

She opened the letter and began to read.

_Dear Clarice, _

_I miss you dearly and hope this letter finds you well, though if I know you as I believe I do, you most likely ignored my wishes and found your way to see me. Whatever the case, your welfare and that of our child are my only concern. _

_The photos will be published in the Tattler tomorrow morning. There is an extremely high likelihood that the duplex you are sharing with Ardelia will immediately be inundated with journalists. _

_The activity that will surround you is of great concern to me. Do not leave the property without an escort. Do not travel alone at any time. Trust no one aside from our small circle of friends. _

_There is one final piece to this puzzle that I have put into motion. I purchased a full page in the Tattler that will run tomorrow as well. The page outlines each of the paired names I decoded from the Ripper's evidence and well as our own coded name and an additional name, Ray U. Matthias, representing the pairing of Stuart and Mariyah. _

_The FBI must not be warned of this as they would try to stop the information from being published. The same must be said for the photos. It is important that the public know I am here and working again with the FBI to stop this killer. It is also my intention the public be made aware that we married and very much in love. This fact puts me in a much different light than the press has thus far portrayed me. It may or may not alter the public perception of me, but it cannot hurt._

_Using the Tattler in this way, Stuart will be made aware that I am not only very much alive but that I know precisely who he is. Within the listing there are instructions for Stuart to respond. Please be careful Clarice. This individual will be aware that I am in custody, thus you and I are not together. This fact puts you in a great deal of danger. He will not strike unless he has an opportunity. Please do not provide him with one. _

_Pearsall has promised to place two agents outside for your protection so that no one may approach the home without clearance. I must place my trust that he is true to his word. I am beside myself with worry that I am not there to watch over you. Please, my Love, do not underestimate young Mr. Miggs. He is not the most intelligent of criminals, but his is quite driven. _

_You must understand that you are his ideal Clarice. He now knows you and I are both very much alive. Love is a powerful motivator. That makes this person very dangerous to us._

_Mind that you are careful, _

_With all my love I am ever yours,_

_H_

Clarice read and reread the letter. It hadn't dawned on her that anyone would show up at the duplex but now that Hannibal mentioned it, she knew it would be a media circus. She wondered how long it would take once the Tattler hit the stands for the news trucks to line the streets.

Clarice showered, slipped into an oversized tee shirt and slid into bed. She rested on her side and pulled a pillow protectively against her stomach.

_Another night without you, H… _

Clarice closed her eyes and imagined the first night she and Hannibal spent together, making love in that very bed. She drifted to sleep with thoughts of him. Her dreams were filled with loving him.

**MORNING**

With the arrival of the Tattler on the newsstands, Clarice awoke to the sounds of trucks and activity just outside the duplex. She went to the window to see scores of journalists, on camera, reporting from her sidewalk.

Hannibal was right…he's always right. She showered, dressed and went to the kitchen to get something to eat. She was staring blankly into the refrigerator when there was a knock at the back door.

A tall gentleman with shoulder length hair stood patiently. He was wearing a black suit and tie and had a hat on that made him appear as if he were a driver.

Clarice went to the door but did not remove the chain. "Can I help you, Sir?"

"Yes, hello, my name is James Keats. I was sent to escort you to a meeting at the White House. They will be discussing your husband's case and with all of the press outside the President believed it would be best to send a car."

The young man gestured to a large black town car in the driveway with tiny American flags on the antennae.

"Will my husband be at the meeting?" Clarice asked, slightly wary of the situation.

"I dropped Doctor Lecter off myself only an hour ago. He is meeting with his lawyer."

Clarice continued the questioning. "Why didn't the FBI transport him?"

"The president did not want your husband wheeled in on a hand truck like a criminal. He was dressed in his suit. The FBI followed in their cars. Here is my identification, Mrs. Lecter."

Clarice looked at the license and photo identifying the man as an employee of a Washington limo service.

She reached for her bag and followed the young man out the door.

Stuart Miggs smiled politely as he held the door open for Clarice.

_I've got your woman…It's your move now, Hannibal._

**Thank you to all my faithful friends who are reading and reviewing! You make every day a joy. You are truly appreciated! To my new friends, thank you for reading. Drop me a note and say hello!**

**Until the next chapter!**

**LH**


	28. Chapter 28

**Thank you to all of my dear friends who continue to read and review.**

**CAPTURE**

Clarice didn't realize she was in trouble until the exit she recognized as being that leading to the White House was passed. Slowly she reached along the seat, continuing to look out of the window so as not to raise suspicion. With great patience and an impressive degree of stealth she began a series of covert texts to Ardelia. Her first text was simple and direct.

_WITH RIPPER-NO REPLY OR HE WILL FIND PHONE_

She forwarded to Ardelia the alias Stuart used and his description. She also described the vehicle and the plate number, thankful that she had the presence of mind and the forethought to make note of it as she approached the vehicle. Clarice Starling was certain she was now in the company of Stuart Miggs.

_Hannibal warned me! He practically told me how! If this crazy bastard doesn't kill me, Hannibal will._

"Excuse me, your name was?" She questioned politely smiling in a friendly, almost flirtatious manner.

"James Keats, Mrs. Lecter." He voice wavering almost imperceptibly as he spoke her married name.

Clarice could see his unease and noticed the perspiration channeling along his furrowed brow.

_Even speaking his name makes you sweat_ _doesn't it, Stuart?_

"May we have music, James?"

"What would you like to hear?"

"Rock if you can find a good station. My husband hates the hell out of that kind of music so, when I 'm alone or out running errands, that's what I play. Do you mind?"

Clarice took a deep breath, her heart raced slightly as she sent another text.

_Tell Hannibal I'm sorry. He warned me. I let my guard down._

"No problem." Stuart fumbled at the sound system of the town car and found an appropriate station. Clarice continued to text, singing along with the radio, careful not let on that she realized she was being taken away from the Washington area. Thankfully she was so familiar with her phone that she could send texts with her hand inside her purse. The driver's eyes shifted continually from the road to her and back again.

_Traveling north. Backroads. No signs._

Ardelia ran down the hall with her phone in her hand, and burst into Pearsall's office.

She interrupted a meeting without apology.

"Clint…the Ripper's got Clarice!"

"What? How?"

He showed up at the house and pretended he was a driver escorting her to the White House. She believed she was being taken to a meeting for Hannibal and just realized who he is."

A text came through to Ardelia. She held her breath as she read it.

"He pulled into a garage. She thinks they are changing cars. Someone's gotta tell Hannibal."

"Jesus Christ…Hannibal…" Pearsall buried his face in his now thoroughly sweaty hands.

"Hannibal what?"

"Hannibal asked me as a personal favor, to put some agents on her. Christ…I promised and I totally blanked on it. He must have known something like this was going to happen. He's going to go crazy."

Ardelia stood in the doorway. She was both terrified and awestruck at the thought. "Jesus, Pearsall…Jesus. How are you going to tell him?"

Pearsall stood and quickly joined Ardelia. "In full restraints…that's how."

**THE SWITCH**

The driver pulled into the garage and moved to open Clarice's door. She stepped out and smiled.

"This obviously isn't the White House. What's up?"

"The engine light came on and I don't want to drive down Pennsylvania Avenue with a potentially smoking engine. They'll think I'm a terrorist with a car bomb or something. I don't want to get myself shot or anything. We will just change cars and head on over. Hope you don't mind if we use my car. If I go all the way back to the garage, we'll never make it to that meeting in time. You wouldn't want to disappoint your husband would you?"

"No, of course not, your car will be fine."

Clarice turned to reach for her purse expecting Stuart to make his move. A second later, he was on her. She took a deep breath the moment he grabbed her, holding the precious oxygen in her lungs, she forced herself not to inhale.

Clarice could feel Stuart's strength as the rough cloth clamped tightly over her mouth and nose. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. He nuzzled against her skin and pressed hard.

Starling struggled with all her strength and fought hard not to breathe. Not knowing what chemical was on the cloth or what it would do to the child she carried, she would not inhale. She thrashed for a few moments and allowed her body to go limp, feigning unconsciousness. The Ripper assumed she had passed out and with no more than a cursory examination, carried her to another car.

_You idiot…Hannibal would have been much more thorough._

He recovered her purse and put it in the front seat of the car. He began to drive again.

Clarice rested on the seat. Perfectly quiet listening and watching as the trees moved past. As they approached their destination, she was able to get a quick glimpse of the view.

She had time to send one final text.

_H… I know you remember the day you read Dante to me…the view from the Andes…the trees… the lake? Look for it and you'll find me…I know you'll come for me. I'm sorry…I love you._

Just as she sent the text, the bars on the phone showed that the battery was gone. No more messages were possible. She prayed the final message got through.

**TELLING HANNIBAL**

Hannibal was not in his cell when they came for him. He was in an unexpected meeting with his lawyer. The short, rather portly gentleman handed Hannibal a copy of the Executive Order.

"The order of commutation was signed early this morning at the White House. Technically, Doctor Lecter you are now a completely free man."

Hannibal was confused as to why. He didn't believe Stuart would have moved that quickly. "It was my thought the White House would refuse to sign the paperwork until Mariyah was found."

"Mariyah Bashandi was found alive after being dropped off just outside the offices of the National Tattler earlier this morning."

_Stuart, I'm impressed. You are very good at following directions. _

Hannibal was becoming agitated. He needed to get out. It wouldn't be long before Stuart would strike. "Am I free to go? I need to get to my wife. If the Ripper released Mariyah, Clarice is in danger."

"You are, Doctor. I'll escort you through the process myself."

Hannibal reached out and shook the lawyer's hand. "I appreciate your expertise and your sensitivity in this matter."

"Not at all, Doctor, I was very glad to help. Now let's get you out of here."

The lawyer stood and knocked on the door for the officer to unlock it. The officer did not open the door.

Hannibal exchanged a questioning look with his attorney. The man knocked a second time. The officer opened the door and stepped inside.

"Doctor Lecter has received his sentence commutation from the White House and the young lady, Mariyah Bashandi has been released. By executive order, my client is to be released and I am here to escort him through the process."

"I'm sorry Sir. You are free to go, but I have orders not to release Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal stood very still careful not to exhibit any emotion, though he was growing more agitated by the moment. For reasons unknown Hannibal was becoming extremely concerned with Clarice's well-being. His nerves were raw, the trembling in his left hand obvious only to himself.

"Under whose orders am I to remain?" The icy chill of the question posed so calmly that it was terrifying.

The officer shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. For the first time in Lecter's presence he was afraid. They were holding him there and he no longer wanted to be held. Now Hannibal's unpredictable nature was of great concern.

"Deputy Director Pearsall has asked that you be retained. I also have orders to restrain you, Sir."

The attorney protested vehemently. "You can't restrain him…he's here without charges and all of his previous convictions have been commuted. You can't restrain him or keep him here!"

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I don't know what this is about or what to do aside from following the orders I have been given. Will you take your seat and allow me to secure you to the table until we can figure this out? I promise you I will not keep you here one moment more than is absolutely necessary."

Hannibal could see no choice but to comply. "Of course, Officer, I understand the position you are in."

Hannibal sat at the table and allowed the officer to cuff him to the metal hoop welded to the center. Suddenly he heard movement behind him and could smell the acrid stench of fear. Without turning or lifting his eyes from the handcuffs, he spoke.

"Deputy Director Pearsall, I presume?"

Director Pearsall entered the room. He was obviously terrified to face Lecter.

The lawyer was angry and dialing his cell phone furiously. He stepped just outside the cell. "Doctor Lecter…I'll get you out of here within the hour."

Pearsall held a hand up. "Hold on. I have to talk to Lecter and he isn't going to like hearing what I have to say so the cuffs are as much for his protection as for ours. I don't want him to do anything that will jeopardize his newly earned freedom. You can escort him from the building after I'm through."

Hannibal was in no mood to be toyed with. The fear he sensed coming from Pearsall was not the same level of fear he sensed from him earlier. Hannibal had not sensed this level of fear from another human since Rinaldo Pazzi.

"It is so very thoughtful of you Deputy Director to offer me this level of _protection_. You would have me chained like an animal before speaking to me man to man? Your bravery has no bounds." Hannibal hissed as he shifted against the manacles.

"Doctor Lecter, your wife Clarice was apprehended this morning from the home she shared with Ardelia Mapp. She has contacted us and believes she is in the company of Stuart Miggs."

Hannibal was in shock. "I asked you to put agents on her! I told you she was in jeopardy! I trusted you with her life and you did what? How did he get past your agents?"

"There were no agents, Doctor…I'm sorry…I forgot."

"You're sorry? You forgot…YOU FORGOT!"

Roaring in anger, Hannibal Lecter jumped to his feet and attempted to rip the cuffs from the welded ring. He twisted and torqued his arms, raging, and pulling as the blood poured from the gashes the cuffs sliced through his flesh. He bellowed his anguish as he tried desperately to free himself from his chains.

Ardelia rushed into the room and seeing Hannibal's anguish ran to his side.

Hannibal turned to Pearsall. "Get these fucking cuffs off me you spineless bastard!"

Pearsall backed against the wall.

"Hannibal! Hannibal!" She yelled to get his attention.

Hearing Ardelia, Hannibal spun around, his eyes glowing.

Ardelia's heart broke for him, his pain so evident that her eyes welled from the sight of it. She put her arms around him. As she held him, Hannibal collapsed, tears streaming down his face, his entire body shaking uncontrollably from a combination of rage and despair.

She whispered in his ear. "I'll get you out of here but they won't let me remove the cuffs when you're out of control like this. Your wife needs you, Hannibal. You've got to get a handle on this…for Clarice."

Hannibal attempted to calm himself. Clarice wanted him…she needed him. He would not fail her.

Hannibal's shoulders shook as he tried to reign in his adrenalin. He didn't have Clarice to hold him and talk him down. Ardelia sat beside him and rubbed his back.

"It's okay…we'll get to her…she's okay."

Pearsall nodded to Ardelia. She reached for her handcuff key and looked at Hannibal.

"Please, Hannibal…I need to trust you…I need to be able to trust you."

Hannibal didn't respond, but purposely slowed his breathing to appear as if he had calmed.

As soon as Ardelia released him, Hannibal leapt from the bench and surged at Pearsall. Hannibal's hands grasped Pearsall's throat, digging like talons into his flesh. Hannibal lifted him by his throat and slammed the Deputy Director against the stone wall. Pearsall's eyes rolled in terror and he cringed as Hannibal's teeth bared and flashed inches from his face. He rasped in the terrified man's ear.

"I trusted you with all that was important to me...I trusted you with her life…If she dies…_nothing_ will stop me!"

Ardelia rushed to his side. "Hannibal we can't help her if we can't get you out of here."

Hannibal slowly released Pearsall and backed up rubbing his bleeding wrists.

"I am going to retrieve my wife...bend your knees and pray to whatever wretched god made you that I find her. Alive."

The lawyer opened the door and walked Hannibal quickly through the exit. Within fifteen minutes, Hannibal was with Ardelia investigating the sight where Stuart left the town car.

Hannibal searched the air, his nostrils flaring. "He tried to use chloroform on her."

"Yes, she faked it. He thought she passed out. He has no idea she has been texting us."

"What was the last text she sent?"

"Something about the view."

She checked the text and showed it to Hannibal.

"_H… I know you remember the day you read Dante to me…the view from the Andes…the trees… the lake? Look for it and you'll find me…I know you'll come for me. I'm sorry…I love you."_

"Ardelia, is there a lake nearby…surrounded by large conifers?"

"There's a lake fifteen minutes north of here."

"The house will be surrounded by pine trees…on the north side of the lake. I know what I'm looking for Ardelia…If you will allow me…I'll drive."

Ardelia jumped into the passenger side of the car. Hannibal jumped behind the wheel and tore out of the lot. The fifteen minute drive took less than seven.

So as not to tip off Stuart, they parked the car near the lake and began to walk. Hannibal lead, Ardelia followed, her gun drawn.

Hannibal's predatory responses were highly tuned. He could smell the air, the scent of her shampoo still rich on the breeze. _We are close…where is the building? _

Suddenly, Hannibal saw a cluster of trees similar to a grouping near his home.

"Ardelia…that is the clearing Clarice was referring to. Wait here. If I need you, I will call for you. Do not take any chances. Stay here. If I fall…you are her only hope."

Ardelia nodded and took cover, moving up very carefully to find a better vantage point.

Hannibal moved toward the trees. He listened intently. It had been thirty minutes since Clarice had been able to contact Ardelia. That would mean wherever she was on that property either her phone was dead or…Miggs was with her.

_Hold on Clarice…I am not far from you, my Love._

Hannibal slipped through the trees and made his way to the center of a small clearing. There, nestled in between the conifers just as Clarice had suggested was a large metal container, similar to a tractor trailer.

He searched the air and caught the scent of a man approaching. Hannibal slipped behind a tree and watched, slowing his heart rate as he waited.

Stuart emerged and opened the container, quickly slipping inside.

Hannibal moved quickly and quietly toward what he could only assume was Clarice's prison. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the address book. He had three numbers, Clarice, Barney and Logan.

_Logan? Clarice programmed the number in the phone so I could call him. _

Hannibal sent a quick text to Logan explaining the situation and asking him to send backup. He told Logan where he had left Ardelia. Her cell phone could be used to track their exact location.

Hannibal then moved to the container and opened the door. There standing beside Clarice, attempting to remove her clothing, was Stuart, one hand down his pants and the other on Clarice.

Hannibal's eyes flashed in the dark, glowing like flaming embers.

"If you continue, I will kill you much, much, more slowly than I had intended."

Stuart was obviously shocked to see Hannibal. Clarice, still feigning that she was unconscious, opened her eyes when she heard Hannibal's voice.

"H!"

"Hello, my Love. Forgive my tardiness. I arrived as soon as I was able."

Clarice said calmly. "I knew you would come for me."

Stuart glared at Hannibal. "I knew you would come, too. I counted on it."

"What else did you count on young Mr. Miggs? It appears by the placement of your hand down the front of your pants that you have followed in the family business. Your father was legendary in his self-gratification. It would seem that you suffer from similar inadequacies with woman and must abuse _yourself _to completion? I would ask that you remove your person from the company of my wife. I take great offense and would not have her used in that way."

Stuart reached out and caressed Clarice's breast, tweaking her nipple. "I'll use her any way I want and I'll make you watch, Old Man."

Clarice could see the absolute immolation raging in her husband's eyes. Hannibal charged across the space and reached for Stuart who stepped to the side, reached under the cloth covering his instruments and drove a probe into Hannibal's thigh.

Hannibal's breath hitched slightly but other than that brief pause, he resumed his charge. He found a scalpel on the ground that fell from the upended tray. Instead of attacking Stuart, Hannibal lunged for Clarice and began to cut the duct tape from her arms and legs.

Stuart grabbed another tool and drove it into Hannibal's back. This time, as the metal struck the bone of his scapula, Hannibal's legs buckled and he fell to the ground.

Stuart moved away from Hannibal to the other side of Clarice so that Lecter could not reach him quickly. He unbuckled her belt and lowered the zipper on her jeans. She struggled as he attempted to remove the garment.

Clarice, seeing Hannibal on the ground, wedged her right heel against the heel of her left boot. She forced the boot off and let it slide partially down her foot, and kicked it across the table. Luckily it landed precisely where she wanted, next to her husband.

Hannibal saw a small embroidered pouch poking out of the boot. He reached inside to find his Harpy.

"I had it with me…I missed you, H."

Hannibal stood slowly and moved to Clarice, using the Harpy to tear at the tape. In four passes, her hands and legs were free. Hannibal lifted Clarice from the table.

"Clarice…Forgive me my misogyny in this instance but I do not believe at this time that this is an appropriate place for a woman, especially my woman. Mr. Miggs is about to join the ranks of the Castrati and I believe he might like a bit of privacy for that sort of thing. Some scores must be settled between men and I intend to settle this now. Please find your friends. I will join you directly."

"Hannibal…Come with me. Lock him in and leave him to the cops." Clarice pleaded.

"Please, leave the space, Clarice. Ardelia is just through the clearing and Logan is on the way."

Clarice moved to the exit, Hannibal followed. She opened the door and stepped out. Hannibal kissed her, his eyes never moving from the Ripper.

"I apologize for allowing this beast to defile you, my Love. Whatever happens, know that I am yours."

The door closed and Clarice could hear Hannibal engage the large latch, locking it from the inside. Her heart raced. The last thing she could see before the door closed was Hannibal flashing his Harpy in his hand. Just before the helicopter blades drowned out the sound, she could hear Hannibal's metallic dungeon voice hiss.

"Come, Young Miggs…Your _Daddy_ is calling you…it is time for you to die."

**Thank you to all my faithful friends who are reading and reviewing! You make every day a joy. You are truly appreciated! To my new friends, thank you for reading. Drop me a note and say hello! **

**Until the next chapter!**

**LH**


	29. Chapter 29

**VENGEANCE IS MINE**

Hannibal faced Stuart, electrified, with his Harpy in hand. The blood coursed through his veins, pulsing firmly with the beat of his heart. His mercurial eyes dilated widely, the red irises glowed giving the shining maroon orbs a tiger-like appearance. In the dim light of this metal prison Hannibal's gaze moved over the younger man's body scanning like lasers, searching for any weakness on which he could capitalize. Approaching slowly, Lecter extended his arms, weapon in hand and began to circle, carefully stepping one leg over the other, moving sideways with the muscled elegance of a panther cornering his prey.

His brilliant mind constantly processing, he calculated quickly to measure the length of his opponent's arms in order to gauge his reach. Hannibal then concentrated on the forearms, wrists and hands to assess the strength of his foe's grip. Finally, the wily predator peered deeply into Stuart's eyes to estimate his courage and conviction.

_What do you have behind your eyes, young Miggs? Are you a fierce or fearful man?_

Feeling as if Lecter's burning gaze could reduce him to ashes, Stuart immediately looked away. Hannibal tilted his head to the side and smiled. At the precise moment Stuart's eyes left his, Hannibal recognized that he had discovered the weakness he was seeking. Seeing the doubt and fear in Miggs' eyes, Lecter taunted the much younger man as he slowly stalked across the room.

"Dear boy, remind me… how long has it been since Multiple Miggs gasped out his last breath? I must say, the fact that he was so suggestible was indeed a pleasant surprise to me, though it does reflect a painfully low intelligence quotient. I had hoped without his deviant paternal presence that you might have attained some sense of normalcy. Though seeing the man you have become it is obvious that all of my hopes for you were for naught."

Stuart spit his words, like venom across the room. "Your wife has nice tits Doc, great nipples. Shame they're wasted on the elderly likes of you, really."

_And the hand that touched her body will be removed soon enough._

Hannibal's blood boiled at the reference to Clarice's molestation however he would not fall victim to this pathetic attempt to unhinge him. He circled around the large table bringing him dangerously close to his prey. Hannibal, feeling confident ignored the burning wounds in his shoulder and thigh, and continued to mock.

"Yes, her breasts _are_ magnificent and I assure you they are not wasted. I enjoy each and every lovely portion of her physique and lavish my attentions on her nightly. I will be certain to pass along your compliment when I see her. Alas, you will not be alive to accept her gratitude but I will encourage her to thank your cooling corpse before they sheath it in the body bag."

Stuart beckoned with his hands, gesturing for Hannibal to approach. "Why don't you come over here and see whose corpse she's gonna stand over."

Hannibal closed in, a step at a time, watching intently, unblinking, waiting for Stuart to commit to a course of action. He held his Harpy firmly, though he remained fully relaxed.

"Come, young Miggs. Meet the same fate as your piteous father and die for my entertainment."

Hannibal smoothed his thumb across the razor sharp edge of the Harpy. He had carried the blade for so long that it was now, more or less an extension of his own body. Hannibal's heart thumped slowly and his respirations were even. He inhaled deeply and allowed the scent of fear to move down the back of his sinus passages and weave over his tastebuds.

_This is going to be fun!_

Hannibal was now only four feet away from Stuart, though there was a large table between them. Hannibal engaged the man's attention as he moved to close the distance between them.

"Your terror is delicious, Stuart. Though I must give you some credit, I will say I am quite heartened that you face your death like a man unlike your pathetic excuse for a father. He sobbed for hours before he choked on his own lingual muscle. Though I did indeed suggest it to him, I really did not think it was possible for a man to swallow his own tongue. It was fascinating and actually quite entertaining."

The Ripper was enraged but could only manage the response. "Go fuck yourself, Doctor Lecter."

The scent heavy in the air, Hannibal sensed the younger man's fear mounting. He noticed that Stuart's right eye had now developed a pronounced and persistent spasm.

"Bit _twitchy_ Stu? Well, no matter. As to _fucking_ myself, unlike your father and yourself, I have no need to enjoy that particular pleasure alone. You have seen my wife. She is perfection. When I feel that particular urge, which I guarantee is nightly, I avail myself of her lovely form. She is a wonderful lover and quite enthusiastic. I am sorry that you have not been able to kidnap a woman appropriate to your _needs_."

Rage building, Stuart let his anger get the better of him, he charged across the makeshift room grunting loudly, he used his large hunting knife and stabbed at Hannibal.

_That was your first mistake, young Miggs._

Lecter simply stepped to the side, parried the attack and hooked his Harpy at the younger man. This swift action, elegant in its simplicity was extremely efficient and sliced a deep gash across his attacker's right forearm and down along to his hand.

"Pardon me…would that have been the hand you used to touch my wife, Stuart?"

Hannibal flipped the Harpy over and flashed his hand across his own body, hacking at Stuart's other hand, tearing the meaty flesh from his thumb.

"Or perhaps that was the hand you used to defile her?" Hannibal questioned with a mocking tone.

Stuart recoiled, blood spurting from his hand. He retreated quickly, pulled a cloth from a shelf, wrapped it around his left hand and tied a knot in it, tightening that knot with his teeth.

"Your wife is going to see who the better man is." Stuart screamed as he tried to stem the flow of blood.

Hannibal flashed a wicked grin. He had control of the situation and was the proverbial cat, batting the mouse about for his entertainment. He would finish him, at his leisure, when he had tired of the game.

"Though I am not normally one to brag Stuart, you have a long way to go before you better me in _that _department. We both know your father tossed the better part of you in my wife's face and that distasteful masturbatory mistake cost him his life. Your similar disrespect to her will soon cost you yours."

The heat of shame burned Stuart's cheeks causing him to shift his eyes away momentarily.

_That was your second mistake dear boy._

Hannibal instantly capitalized on the distraction and attacked. He slammed his shoulder into the taller man's body knocking the wind out of him. Stuart collapsed in a heap but quickly scrambled to his feet. Hannibal slashed the Ripper across his chest in a semi-circular motion, hacking a bloody 'C' into his flesh. The younger man fell back on one hand, wincing in pain.

He reached for the wound and after several deep breaths, regained his composure, and in blind panic, Stuart charged.

Stepping to the side with the grace of a matador Hannibal twisted his body at an upward angle as if throwing an uppercut and in two quick passes of his beloved Harpy, hacked an 'X' over the initial.

He continued to mock Stuart, using his icy metallic dungeon tones. "You see I have crossed out my wife's initial to illustrate the fact that she will _never _be yours."

Stuart doubled over holding his hand over his torn and bloodied torso. "She will never be yours again either, Doctor. You'll never see her again."

In a blind rage, Stuart tackled Hannibal causing Lecter's wrist to hit the edge of the table sending his Harpy across the floor. Hannibal flipped over and scrambled across the ground for his blade. Stuart raced to head him off, both men battling across the ground for control and dominance each man seeking the same instrument of death. They arrived at the Harpy at the same time and both men reached simultaneously for it, their hand's touching each other's as together they touched the blade.

**CLARICE**

Clarice ran out of the container and through the clearing. Ardelia waved her over.

"Clarice! Clarice! Over here!"

Clarice ran to Ardelia, out of breath and in near hysterics. She was doubled over, her hand on her stomach protectively, desperately trying to regain her composure.

"Jesus Christ, Dee what the hell is going on? How did Hannibal get out so quickly?"

Ardelia put her hand on Clarice's back to help steady her friend. "They had to let him go. The president signed the order. Hannibal's sentence was commuted."

Clarice was incredulous. "How…what did Stuart do with the girl?"

"He did what Hannibal told him to do. It was part of the instructions he had published in the Tattler this morning The Ripper dropped her off at the Tattler offices early this morning."

Clarice finally regained enough composure to stand upright. She placed a hand on Ardelia's shoulder in an attempt to steady herself.

"Ardelia, they're in there trying to kill each other. We need backup."

"I called it in but Hannibal had already contacted Logan. They're on their way Clarice but we've gotta stop him. Hannibal's sentences have all been commuted. He can't kill again, especially not the same day he gets out of jail. Not to mention he went apeshit all over Pearsall less than an hour ago. We've got to get him out of there."

"What? Why the hell would he go off on Pearsall? I thought Clint was smart enough to play nice."

Ardelia guided Clarice to a fallen log and helped her to sit. She knew her next statement would upset her friend.

"Clarice, Hannibal asked Pearsall to do him a personal favor. He knew the Ripper would move to kidnap you. He told Pearsall you would be in danger and asked him to put agents on the house to protect you. Clint agreed to do it…but he forgot. When you were grabbed, Clint had Hannibal restrained because he was so afraid to tell him."

"Restrained! How did Hannibal handle that?"

"Not well…did you see his wrists. He tried to rip his hands out through the cuffs. It was the most heart wrenching thing I've ever seen. Then, when I uncuffed him…he went after Pearsall. I was scared to death. He had him by the throat. It was insane. He was lost without you, Clarice. He loves you more than you can ever imagine or know."

Clarice shook her head. "No…I know how much he loves me. If you think his wrists are bad, you should have seen him hack off his hand. I've got to stop him, Dee. He won't be able to stop himself."

"You don't look like you're that worried about him." Ardelia questioned.

"Dee, I saw him kill a fucking mountain lion in total darkness with nothing more than his bare hands and that Harpy and he loved every minute of it. I'm pretty sure he can handle Stuart Miggs. I almost hate to break up his party."

Suddenly, FBI agents swarmed the area. Logan had called in the cavalry and he himself was strapped to the side of an FBI helicopter with his weapon system mounted and trained on the container. He was in contact through a head set. As they circled the area, Logan contacted the Agents on the ground.

"Has anyone down there seen Ardelia Mapp? She left the prison escorting Hannibal Lecter and I want to get a location on her. Can someone find out if she's okay for me?"

Pearsall had just arrived on scene. "Marley, I'm on location and can see Mapp. She's talking to Starling."

"What about Hannibal? Is he with Clarice?"

"No, I don't know where he is yet. I can't find Lecter or the Ripper."

Pearsall approached the women. "Ladies, where's Lecter and do you have a location on the Ripper?"

Clarice pointed over her shoulder. "In there. Both of them…I'm going to try to get Hannibal to open the door. It's locked from the inside."

Pearsall rubbed at the welts left on his neck by Hannibal. Clarice noticed them and turned her head, surpressing a smile.

Pearsall paced back and forth nervously, trying to come up with an alternative. There was no way to enter the container and with no windows, no way to assess what was happening inside. When he could think of no other approach he turned to Clarice.

"Okay, get it under control so we can take that psychopath into custody."

Clarice asked Pearsall sarcastically. "Precisely which psychopath are you referring to Clint?"

"C'mon Clarice, your hubby and I may not be the best of friends but I appreciate all he did to help solve this case and get Mariyah released. Now go get him out of there while there is still something left of Miggs for us to take into custody."

**THE FINAL CONFLICT**

Hannibal's hand fell on the Harpy as if it willed itself into his possession. He flipped onto on all fours and spun around to face Stuart. His voice was low and growling as he brandished the weapon.

"Come Stuart, let us end this."

Stuart stood slowly and began to back up against the wall. Suddenly, Hannibal could smell Clarice's scent. There was a loud banging on the door.

"Hannibal…Hannibal… Open up right now!" Clarice demanded.

Hannibal shifted his attention for a split second. He did not see Stuart reach for the gun.

"Clarice move away from the door. I will be out momentarily."

"Hannibal, leave him to the police…for me…for the baby, H."

When she mentioned the baby, Hannibal's heart sank. He could not continue this game and place his newly found freedom in jeopardy. Hannibal proceeded slowly to the exit, unhinged the latch, and carefully moved the metal door open, standing just on the outer edge of the trailer. He reached his hand out to Clarice. Just as her hand touched his, a shot rang out and a large wound opened up to the right of Hannibal's chest. He looked at down at the wound and back to Clarice, his eyes wide.

Barely able to summon enough wind in his lungs, he yelled to his wife. "My Love…Run!"

Hannibal turned to face Stuart seeking to draw his attention away from Clarice. His breathing was labored but his movement remained unaffected, the adaptive nature of his primal responses caused his adrenalin and endorphins to fire at levels far exceeding that of the normal man.

Hannibal taunted his opponent in an effort to keep the shooter's aim from Clarice. "Come, Stuart. Surely you can do better than _that_. Bring your gun out here in the light of day. You will have an audience when you kill me. If you are lucky, the sunlight will improve your aim and your next shot will hit my heart."

Stuart moved toward Hannibal. Hannibal in turn, backed very slowly down the ramp, careful to remain within his own striking distance. Stuart approached leveling the gun.

"Hey, Stuart… Over here!" Clarice called in an attempt to get Miggs' attention away from her husband.

Miggs shifted his eyes briefly. That was all it took for Hannibal to react, knocking Stuart from the ramp to the unforgiving ground, causing Stuart to face plant in the dirt. Hannibal landed on his injured shoulder and grunted in pain. Ignoring the sensation he rolled over and mounted Stuart's back and wrapped him in a choke hold the Brazilians call the Mate Leao. Hannibal pulled with all his strength and forcefully arched Stuart's head back, exposing his neck. Hannibal poised his Harpy and readied the hooked blade at young Miggs' throat.

"When you reach the inferno…say hello to your _Daddy_ for me!"

Hannibal's eyes flashed blood red crimson. He was enraged, the burning in his chest radiating from the gunshot wound. This man caused him to be away from Clarice. He caused him to feel the sting of separation, the pain of being alone again. This man caused him to watch the anguished expression of his wife's face as she placed the mask of the monster over him. This man forced him to endure the hitch in his smothered breath as that mask tightened against his flesh. He wanted to inflict the same amount of pain on this monster. Just before he pierced the point of the Harpy's hook into the flesh of the man's neck Clarice called out to him.

"H…Stop!"

Hannibal looked up at Clarice. His eyes were wild. He dared not speak.

"H, No. You need an ambulance."

"Forgive me my Love…" Hannibal tightened his grip on the Ripper, squeezing his skull he held onto Stuart's head as tight as a boa constrictor, using his arms to coil it firmly against his chest. Very slowly, deliberately, Lecter pierced the tip of the Harpy into the man's flesh.

Stuart Miggs screamed in pain and terror as the blade sunk into his flesh.

Hannibal's mouth watered. The scent of the freshly spilling blood permeated his olfactory senses, activating his taste buds. The door to Predator was opened and he was Hunger.

All others remained firmly back, too terrified to approach Lecter in such an obviously unstable state. Unafraid of Hannibal's terrifying presence, Clarice moved closer still, locking her eyes on his. Hannibal shook his head; the pleading in his eyes told her what he himself could not.

_No, Clarice…No!_

"You are still in there…you're still Hannibal…my Hannibal. You promised me…You told me you could walk away from this…_for me_…leave him. Please, stop…if you love me…stop."

With the pain crushing his chest and the blinding fire still raging in his eyes, his body shuddered. All he could manage was her name, spoken softly, with the devout love and reverence of a prayer.

"Clarice…"

"H, you are my husband. I love you and I'm having your baby…That's _got _to be enough for you…_We_ have to be _enough_ for you." She held her arms open to him. "Come, H… hospital."

Hannibal released his hold on the Ripper.

Clarice held out her hand steady and unafraid. "H…the Harpy…Give me your Harpy."

Hannibal chest wheezed and heaved as he handed her the knife, stood up and moved quietly away from Stuart to embrace Clarice.

Pearsall and the assembled agents stood in disbelief. No one expected Clarice to disarm Hannibal.

Stuart raised his weapon. Pearsall noticed and boomed over his headset.

"Take the shot!"

The Ripper squeezed the trigger. A loud shot rang out.

Before he could fully engage his weapon, Stuart's chest exploded in a sudden burst of blood and muscle.

Logan screamed over his headset. "OOO-RAH, Mother fucker!"

Logan was now wildly pumping his fist as he boldly leaned out of the helicopter circling above.

_Logan you were correct, my friend. With that weapons system, you do not miss._

The adrenalin that had been holding back his pain had now begun to wane, causing the full effects of his wound to become apparent. Hannibal's legs folded beneath him as he slowly collapsed into Clarice's arms. She was not strong enough to shoulder his full weight and lowered him to the ground.

Hannibal's breathing was labored. His chest heaved mightily like the bellows of an accordion, struggling to force air in and out of his lungs, the nature of it almost mechanical…there was nothing natural about it. He wretched and choked his body in full spasm as he choked up large dark clots of blood.

His hand trembling, Hannibal reached up and touched the face of his wife, stroking her cheek with his blood soaked hand. Between strained inhalations he spoke, his breath ragged and forced. "I… always said… you were… dangerous… for me… Clarice…"

Hannibal's body seized for a moment…his eyes closed. His hand fell away from Clarice.

**A message to Little Lecter- Thank you for all your reviews- you have your pm disabled so I have been unable to thank you. Needless to say I appreciate your dedication.**

**Thank you to all my faithful friends who are reading and reviewing! You make every day a joy. You are truly appreciated! To my new friends, thank you for reading. Drop me a note and say hello! **

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	30. Chapter 30

**FIGHT TO SURVIVE**

The precise moment when Hannibal's eyes closed, Clarice's heart broke. It was as if someone had reached between her shoulder blades, tore through the middle of her body and pulled her heart out from behind. Her chest felt as if it were caving in on itself. In utter despair, tears streaming down her face, she reached for her husband's shoulders. She pulled Hannibal's limp body against her chest as if the very presence of him would fill the whirlpool of grief expanding from the center of her being. Sobbing she hugged her husband's body, rocking him back and forth, praying the movement would force his heart to continue beating.

"Don't do this to me. Don't leave me, H! Don't leave me…"

Ardelia rushed to her side, kneeling in the sand, now muddying as it mixed with Hannibal's blood.

"He's dying…oh god he's dying." Clarice cried to her friend.

"I'll get Pearsall. We won't let this happen Clarice…we won't." Ardelia scrambled to her feet and waved Clint over. He was bent over Miggs' body checking his status.

Careful not to add to Hannibal's injuries, Clarice gently lowered her unconscious husband's head to the ground and turned to Pearsall, who was now talking to Ardelia. "Please, I need to get my husband to the hospital…now!"

After confirming that Stuart Miggs was indeed dead, Pearsall moved quickly to assist Clarice. He checked on Hannibal and seeing the open wound, winced.

He yelled out into his headset. "Logan, get that helicopter on the ground. We've gotta get Lecter to the hospital, A.S.A.P!"

The helicopter landed just yards from where Hannibal lay motionless on the ground. The whipping of the blades caused a violent downdraft, swirling gusts of wind that kicked up dust and debris. Seeing this, and concerned for infection, Clarice stretched herself over her husband and gently covered Hannibal's battered body with her own. She was concerned not to allow any foreign material to enter his wound. As the blades slowed and the air calmed around them, she moved back and tenderly brushed the hair away from his face.

Logan ran to Ardelia standing helplessly just a few feet from Clarice.

"What's going on with Hannibal? What happened?"

"He took a round to the chest. It doesn't look good, Babe." Ardelia's eyes burned as she blinked back her tears. She inhaled in short quick breaths trying to control her emotions and avoid a total breakdown. She couldn't block the image of Hannibal, trying desperately to wrench himself free from the handcuffs, his arms bloodied from his efforts to get to Clarice. Her heart ached at the memory.

Equally devastated, Logan stood, his head hanging low, depressed as he stared at Hannibal. "No…dude…no."

Unsatisfied with any outcome that resulted in Hannibal's death Logan rallied his spirits and jumping up and down, waved his arms wildly at the crew of the chopper as they pulled out the rescue basket.

"Hurry the hell up! We've got a man down! MOVE IT! MOVE IT!"

Seeking any way to comfort her husband, Clarice rested her cheek against Hannibal's face and whispered her love to him. She kissed him gently on the mouth, her heart skipping a beat when she noticed the drastic change in his normally warm lips.

Hannibal's skin was now beginning to noticeably cool as his body began shutting down non-essential systems. Leaning closer she hovered just above face, placing her cheek against his nose to check his breathing. Her heart sank…it was now almost undetectable. There was a strange gurgling noise was rolling in the back of his throat and a soft sucking sound coming from the wound in his chest.

The agents approached with the basket they would use to transport Hannibal to the hospital.

Clarice bent to him and whispered in his ear, her tears rolling off her cheeks and flowing onto her husband's face. She gently cupped his face in her hands and kissed his lips for what she believed would be the last time. Clarice lingered for just a moment tracing her tongue along his lips, memorizing the shape of his mouth, the pressure of her lips on his and the final tingling sensation as her mouth left his.

"They're going to take you now, H. I'll meet you at the hospital but you have to hold on for me…I love you, H."

Clarice touched Hannibal's face, truly believing this would be the last time she would ever see him alive. Tears flowing steadily, she stepped to the side allowing them to take Hannibal from her.

Two agents lifted him carefully, covered the wound and strapped Hannibal to the basket. When they were certain he was secure, they lifted him quickly and turned, running full speed to the helicopter with Logan charging alongside. Clarice would not be able to ride with them. She would be forced to meet him at the hospital.

"Don't worry, Clarice. Logan won't leave him." Ardelia sought to comfort her friend. Clarice hugged Ardelia, hiding her face self-consciously from the other agents as she cried uncontrollably.

Ardelia sought to console. "He didn't come all this way and go through everything he did for you to give up. He's a strong man and he loves you, Clarice. He'll fight…for you… he'll fight."

"If he dies…I'm not going to make it, Dee…I'm not…"

**THE WAITING ROOM**

Clarice was oblivious to the scores of journalists gathered outside the hospital. She was unaware that Hannibal's status was being updated on every news channel. There was no way for her to know that the Egyptian Prime Minister had just held a press conference with his daughter and the President, explaining all that Hannibal had done to return his daughter safely to him. The focus of the country was on Hannibal Lecter. All of Clarice's focus was on H.

Hannibal had been in surgery for hours. Sitting beside Clarice, Ardelia continued to be supportive keeping her best friend's spirits up as best she could. "No news is good news, Clarice."

Clarice was not as optimistic. "Sometimes Dee…no news is just that…no news."

Logan stood quietly in the corner away from the women, occasionally slipping out of the room to harass the nursing staff for updates on Hannibal's progress.

Upon hearing Clarice's comment, he was determined to get her some kind of an answer. Believing her boyfriend to have become a bit of a nuisance Logan had been told by Ardelia to leave the staff at the hospital alone.

This time Logan would not take no for an answer and escaped the room without the women noticing to get the latest update. He must have irritated the same nurse, one time too many and did not receive the response he was seeking. Ardelia and Clarice were shocked when they heard Logan's voice very uncharacteristically raised in anger.

"I don't care if someone needs a fucking midol or a goddamned pot to piss in! I want an update on Doctor Lecter and I want it now! It will take you two minutes to go through that door and ask for a progress report. That man was a goddamned hero today. Dude, a little fucking respect would be awesome."

Ardelia ran to the doorway to see Logan, flashing his FBI credentials, his cheerful countenance supplanted by an agitated scowl as he bullied for the nurse to get the update. His face was flushed red and his chest was heaving in anger. The nurse relented and went to check on Hannibal.

Moments later the frazzled nurse returned. Logan stood with his arms crossed defiantly over his chest and stared at her blankly, waiting. When she did not answer immediately Logan probed.

"Well, what did the surgeon say?" His concern for Hannibal was taking the form of frustration.

"The Doctor is closing the final surgical site now. He asked me to let the family know that he will be out to talk to you in a few minutes. Are you family?"

"We're all the family he's got!" Logan barked at her.

Ardelia was more than a little embarrassed by Logan's behavior but excused it, realizing how much he cared about Hannibal. Logan was devastated. Today was the very first time that Hannibal had personally contacted Logan. All of the other contact had been between Ardelia and Clarice. Hannibal trusted Logan and asked him directly for help. Logan was crushed that he hadn't been able to take out Miggs before his friend had been gravely wounded.

"You'll have to excuse, Agent Logan. He and Doctor Lecter have worked together closely on this case and he is very concerned about the Doctor's health. Please forgive his attitude. He's just really worried."

The nurse nodded her head, grateful for the apology. "That's okay…I'm sure it was a really stressful day for all of you. It's been all over the news what Doctor Lecter did…what you all did to catch the Ripper. I appreciate your efforts to keep us safe and I really do hope that Doctor Lecter has the best outcome."

Logan felt sorry he had yelled. It wasn't in his nature to be angry. "I'm sorry." He said contritely to the nurse. "He just means so much to me. I shouldn't have yelled…I'm really, really sorry."

The nurse touched his arm. "Not to worry. Doctor Lecter will be moved to a recovery room in the critical care unit. The surgeon will explain the situation. You might be able to get in and see him soon."

Ardelia spotted the surgeon as he exited the operating room. She tugged at Logan's arm. "Come on Babe, that's him. We've gotta get to Clarice. Christ only knows what he's going to say."

Logan and Ardelia thanked the nurse and left to be with Clarice. The surgeon soon followed.

"I'm Doctor Goodrich. I handled Doctor Lecter's surgery." He extended his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Agent Starling."

"I'm not Agent Starling anymore. I'm no longer with the FBI. I'm Mrs. Lecter now. Hannibal and I are married. How is my husband? Is he going to be okay? Please, is he out of danger?"

The surgeon rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, his muscles sore from the length of the procedures.

"He survived the surgery but I must be completely honest Mrs. Lecter, I have no idea what the next twenty four hours will bring. Your husband presented several injuries. He had a deep puncture wound to the back, a similar wound to his thigh and of course, the most serious injury was the gunshot wound. Your husband arrived in cardiac arrest, so we performed emergency resuscitative thoracotomy and a chest tube was inserted. Further investigation showed that Doctor Lecter's heart was structurally intact. His lung was involved, but fortunately the mechanism of injury was of medium velocity so the damage was not as invasive as it could have been."

"Can you break that down? What does that mean?" Clarice pressed, the concern wearing on her.

"It means that Doctor Lecter was quite fortunate. Although he suffered a severe thoracic injury, damage was not found to either the major central or distal vasculature. The projectile entered between the ribs and exited through his chest so, fortunately there was a clear pathway for the bullet, and thankfully no abdominal involvement and no retained projectile."

Ardelia could see that Clarice was exhausted and overwhelmed. All she wanted to hear was that Hannibal was going to be fine.

Ardelia questioned the surgeon. "So Hannibal's prognosis is? What, Doctor? Obviously, his wife wants to hear that he will survive this."

The surgeon held Clarice's hand and took a seat at her side. His voice was calm and confident.

"Mrs. Lecter, while I can't _promise_ you that he will survive, I'll tell you he has come through the worst of it and he is one hell of a fighter. I have seen men far younger succumb to far less substantial injuries. It is obvious that he believes he has something to live for. Sit with him…talk to him. Let him hear your voice. Keep him with you. He will sense panic so be confident when you speak to him. Don't be afraid when you see him. He is on a ventilator, has an intravenous line and a large chest tube inserted in his side just under his arm. Don't let that tube frighten you. It will be draining and it looks a little intimidating but he is not in any pain."

"Will he wake up soon?" Clarice worried.

The doctor shifted in his seat, obviously exhausted from his efforts to save Hannibal.

"He is comatose and lost a good deal of blood so his body is in shock. It may be that he will open his eyes in a few hours, or a few days but he won't be able to talk because of the ventilator. If he wakes up, we will have a respiratory therapist try stepping him down to see if he is able to breathe on his own."

The surgeon paused. It was obvious something was on his mind. Clarice noticed and it concerned her.

"Is there something bothering you, Doctor? You look like a man with something on your mind."

The Doctor paused. "Actually, yes there is something I've been wondering about…Mrs. Lecter, would you forgive me if I ask what may be a personal question?"

"Go ahead Doctor."

"As I treated the puncture wound to your husband's shoulder, I took note of newly healed and very prominent gashes running across his back and shoulders. They're spaced evenly and very distinctive. What, may I inquire generated those wounds, if you don't mind my asking?"

Clarice smiled. _He's not going to believe this._ "It was a hunting incident."

The surgeon leaned in as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "Really…what was your husband hunting?"

"It was an incident with a mountain lion."

Clarice remembered that night and imagined Hannibal full of life and concern for her as he carried her to their home. Remembering his passion, her cheeks blushed at the thought of it.

The doctor rocked back and forth on his heels, becoming more curious by the moment. "And aside from the scars, the outcome of that incident was?"

Clarice laughed for the first time that day. "After I cleaned his wounds, Hannibal had a great night's sleep, though I'm sure the mountain lion would have preferred a different outcome."

Logan, proud of his friend's prowess chimed in. "She's not telling you the whole thing…Hannibal's a freaking legend! That cat went for Clarice and Hannibal caught the freaking thing mid-air and killed it with his bare hands and his knife."

The Doctor was obviously impressed. "I thought he was a fighter before, but, if he will take on a mountain lion for you… Mrs. Lecter, I doubt he's ready to leave you now. I don't think you have anything to worry about. One little bullet isn't going to stop him. As soon as your husband is settled, the nurse will bring you to him. It was a pleasure meeting you all."

"Thank you for everything you've done for my husband."

The Doctor excused himself. Moments later, to everyone's surprise, Barney walked into the waiting room.

"I've gotten Hannibal prepped and ready, Clarice. He's not awake, but you can sit with him."

Clarice was thrilled. "I didn't know you worked here. I feel so much better knowing he has you."

"Well, that's the thing… I don't work here but I told them you hired me as his private nurse. I hope you don't mind. It would kill me to know he wasn't getting the attention he deserves and even though he's a big hero on the news, I was worried they might still be a little afraid of him. C'mon. I'll bring you in."

The group proceeded to Hannibal's room. Barney held the door allowing Ardelia and Logan to enter first. Barney stopped Clarice before she went into the room.

"Don't judge his status by how he looks right now. It's a little scary, all the machines and everything, but he survived that gunshot and he's gotten through the surgery. Now he just needs rest so he can build his strength. All you need to do is hold his hand and let him know that you're here." He put a supportive hand on her back and guided her into the room. "Don't worry Clarice…you can do this."

Clarice entered the room to see Hannibal propped upright in bed. There was a large tube down his throat taped to the side of his mouth forcing precious oxygen into his lungs. The machine keeping him alive pumped and hissed, the tube jumping up and down with each inhalation and exhalation. The heart rate machine was beeping and there were lines and leads running everywhere. Clarice moved to check her husband's body and was horrified at the large tube draining fluid from Hannibal's chest cavity. It was collecting bloody liquids into a container. A series of leads were attached to the parts of his chest, not covered with surgical dressings, monitoring his vital signs.

Clarice had never seen Hannibal looking less than confident and in control. The visage of him fully dependent and at the mercy of those around him devastated her. She covered her mouth with her hands. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she tried to steady her breathing…she was sure she was losing him.

"God…oh my god, Barney…he looks so helpless." The tears were welling in her eyes.

Barney put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him, lending support. "What are you talking about, Clarice? He has all the control in the world. He isn't helpless at all. As a matter of fact, he is fully in charge of his recovery. It's all up to him."

Barney's comment gave Clarice some comfort and she smiled, remembering Hannibal's words to her.

_I chose to be Power. It is not in my Nature to choose Victim._

Clarice sat by his side and reached for her husband's hand. Feeling how warm he was to the touch, her heart soared and she dared to hope he might return to her. She kissed his hand and whispered to him. "Don't worry, I'm here H…I'm here."

**RECOVERY**

Ardelia arrived every day with fresh clothing and food. Clarice refused to go home. She would not leave her husband's side. Nightly, when she could keep her eyes open no longer, Clarice would push her chair against the hospital bed and rest her head on her husband, reaching her arms around his waist, his thigh her pillow.

Clarice was sound asleep and did not hear her husband stir.

Hannibal opened his eyes slowly. He strained slightly, moving his mouth against the plastic as he gagged on the tube from the respiratory. Hannibal's mind ever processing, his eyes searched the room, checking the machines. Reading the vital signs on each machine Hannibal sought to fully assess his condition. He felt an unusual pressure on his legs and looked down to uncover the source. He smiled to see Clarice, sound asleep, her head resting on his thigh.

Exhausted, Hannibal reached down, put his arms around his wife and drifted back to sleep holding her.

Later that night, Barney entered the room to check Hannibal's vitals and noticed that his arms were around Clarice. Clarice stirred when she heard Barney checking her husband. When she opened her eyes, Barney whispered.

"Hey, Clarice…when did he wake up?" He was busy taking Hannibal's temperature.

Clarice shook her head, confused. "What? He didn't wake up. What do you mean?"

Barney gestured to Hannibal's arms, still around Clarice. "Look, he's holding you."

Clarice sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes. Her heart began to beat faster. She took both his hands in hers.

"H? Can you hear me, H?"

Though his eyes remained closed, Hannibal's head turned toward her voice.

"Call to him again Clarice, I think he heard you."

Clarice stood slowly and moved closer to Hannibal. She spoke gently in his ear.

"H…I need you. Please…open your eyes. I love you and I need to know you're going to be okay."

Slowly, Hannibal's eyes opened. When he saw his wife, he winked and smiled.

Clarice kissed his hands and began to cry.

Hannibal shook his head 'no', reached up and wiped away the tear.

Barney smiled. "It's good to have you back, Doctor."

**THE JOURNEY HOME**

Because of the commutation of Hannibal's sentence both Hannibal and Clarice were now able to use their actual identities. They received assistance processing their paperwork and were given new identification and American passports. Clarice insisted they remarry with a justice of the peace. She had become quite used to being Mrs. Hannibal Lecter and she didn't want to give that up. She wanted the paperwork to make it official.

The only possible problem was the fact that the home purchased in San Martin de Los Andes was still listed under their alias. A variety of government agencies and officials communicated the situation and handled the transfer of the property from the alias to Doctor and Mrs. Hannibal Lecter. The concern, however was, would their neighbors adjust to the situation as well.

True to his word, Anwar Bashandi transported Hannibal and Clarice in his private plane for their return to Argentina. They stepped off the plane to see Rodrigo Molina waiting graciously at the gate, holding up a sign that read, _**'Doctor and Mrs. Hannibal Lecter'**_

The greeting, though quite unexpected, was a tremendous relief to Hannibal and Clarice.

"Doctor Lecter, I presume?" Rodrigo said with a smile as he extended his hand to Hannibal.

Hannibal, relieved at the welcome, shook Rodrigo's hand firmly.

"Please…call me Hannibal my friend."

"And of course, you may call me Rodrigo." He glanced over his shoulder and called out loudly.

"Francisco, if you would please bring the Doctor and his wife's luggage to the car…now!"

"Yes Papa." Francisco put his brand new cell phone quickly in his pocket and retrieved the luggage.

Doctor and Mrs. Hannibal Lecter were escorted back to their compound in the company of friends, feeling relieved, content and very much at home.

Clarice was visibly very pregnant, Hannibal visibly very proud and both visibly very much in love.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	31. Chapter 31

**A BRIGHTER DAY**

The following morning Clarice woke alongside her husband, being careful to rest gently against his healing body. Since Hannibal's first incarceration, forced to repose on the painfully small cot that for more than eight years served as his bed, he had adjusted to sleeping on his back. Normally, his wife would have placed her head on his chest as she slept, though since Hannibal's surgical procedures and much to his displeasure, she had refused to do so. At least until his body was fully healed.

Clarice smoothed her hand over his chest, not as muscled as it had been before they left their home. She floated her palm across the rough, newly bristling, chest hairs just beginning to grow back from the surgery performed just over two weeks ago. She bumped her fingers over his ribs, now painfully obvious to her touch.

_You're too thin, H. That's something we're gonna to have to work on_.

Not wanting Clarice to dwell on his injuries, Hannibal refused to let her look over his healing wounds. Now that he was sleeping and heavily medicated, Clarice moved the sheet tentatively and examined him. She traced the very tip of her index finger along the uneven stretch of his scar, memorizing the length, the width and the line of it. Next, she reached for his thigh and found the smooth round scar situated at the separation of muscles between his quadriceps and his hamstring. She rolled her finger over the smooth, circular ridge, and guessed it to be the size of a silver dollar. Hannibal rested on the new keloid that marked his scapula.

_More scars etched on a body already filled with them…too many of them because of me. I'm so sorry, H._

Without the soothing sound of Hannibal's heartbeat to comfort her, combined with her body's changes, Clarice's sleep the last few weeks had been fitful. This being the case, she decided to rise early that morning to prepare breakfast for her husband. Clarice watched Hannibal as he slept, his chest rising and falling with every breath. He looked majestic even in sleep. She kissed his cheek.

_You're so handsome. It doesn't matter how many marks you have. I love you more with each one._

Remembering how it felt to hold her husband as his bloodied body cooled in her arms, Clarice's eyes welled and the bile rose, burning the back of her throat. She placed her hand on her chest and leaned forward choking back the tears. This newly found fear of Hannibal's mortality began to ebb its way back into her soul. She bent slightly at the waist trying to ease the crushing pressure spreading across her chest.

Clarice swallowed hard and closed her eyes to hold back the emotion. Though she could stay the tears, she could not suppress the flood of memories overwhelming her. The feel of his warm, slick blood, covering her hands. The release of pressure as she touched him a final time before they airlifted him to the hospital. Her heart quickened as she briefly relived the agony of that moment.

_Get it together! You don't want him to wake up to a pregnant, hysterical wife!_

Clarice reprimanded herself for what she saw as weakness. She wasn't the kind of woman who panicked and had open disdain for those women who found it necessary to feign weakness in order to be thought of as desirable. She had no such need to compromise herself. She was always steady. She was the calm in the storm. That was why she hadn't been afraid of Hannibal. Why fear someone that couldn't hurt her, though she had no way of knowing her _wouldn't _hurt her. The day she almost lost him was the first time since her childhood that fear had fully overtaken her.

_I was so lost…so close to losing you._

Clarice watched Hannibal as he slept soundly, his expression so peaceful. The first few nights they spent in bed together, she hadn't been able to watch him sleep. Even now, it was difficult. He would feel the slightest stir and his eyes would open. It terrified her the first time it happened.

In his expression there was always a lightening quick spark. A hint of something dangerous, like the flashing glint of sunlight reflecting off the blade of a knife. Sleeping now, the danger disappeared. He appeared almost vulnerable.

_So brave…even after taking that bullet, you confronted him to keep me safe._

Clarice was humbled by the sacrifice he was so willing to make for her, for their child, and it was the reason she loved him. Unlike most contemporary men he was old-fashioned… chivalrous. No one had ever or would ever put her so far above themselves than he. No one would ever love her with the depth and commitment as he. She was everything to him. He was now everything to her.

_Okay, H…I'm going to make you breakfast so you just keep sleeping. I want to surprise you. _

Normally, it would be nearly impossible to move undetected in Hannibal's presence. His senses were so highly tuned that he often felt the slightest shifting in the sheets. Anytime Clarice would roll over or move away from him, Hannibal would reach for her. She would have to be extremely stealthy.

Very slowly Clarice slipped the sheets from her body. Meticulously, she moved one leg, then the other to the side of the mattress, allowing her legs to bend at the knee and hang loosely over the side. She then, very gingerly pulled herself to a seated position, all the while watching Hannibal as she ever so gently lifted herself from the bed.

Surprisingly, Hannibal did not move. Clarice assumed, as Hannibal had explained, that the pain medication prescribed to him had provided an unusually deep sleep. He told Clarice that he would never have taken it had the FBI still been seeking him. As a fugitive from justice Hannibal had always relied fully on his senses. Medication dulled those senses. Pain enhanced them. Thus, Hannibal preferred pain. Clarice would not hear of it. By manner of a compromise, and of course to please his wife, he agreed to take the medication, though only at bedtime.

Pausing for a moment, leaning on the richly carved walnut post of the large bed they shared, Clarice looked back at her husband's sleeping form. He was quiet in sound and movement. Even at rest he was elegant.

_I love you, H._

As was their custom both spouses slept nude, so Clarice quietly slipped on her robe and moved to the kitchen, smiling widely. She believed herself to be quite the magician that she had been able to leave their bed, for the very first time, fully undetected. She padded barefoot and silently, tiptoed from the room.

Clarice moved about the kitchen opening the cabinets and peering in the pantry. Hannibal had the local grocer deliver fresh food within an hour of their arrival home. He had apparently placed an order online before they departed Washington and phoned the grocer upon landing to confirm the time of delivery.

It hadn't dawned on Clarice that preparing for an extended absence Hannibal had cleared the kitchen of perishables before their journey to the states. She was thankful he had been so organized. It was easier to prepare a meal from a fully stocked kitchen. Considering both his health and her limited expertise with meal preparation, Clarice settled on an egg white, spinach and cheddar cheese omelet with fresh fruit and wheat toast. She would make oatmeal as well. He needed the calories. She was grating the fresh cheddar when he entered the room barefoot and like Clarice, wearing nothing more than his robe.

He stretched his arms and arched his back, covering his mouth as he yawned widely. "Good morning, my Love. I was more than disappointed to wake and find myself quite alone in our bed. One would think you were trying to avoid something."

Hannibal moved behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly by bending her body against his. Clarice stretched down to reach her toes back to the ground, careful to take the weight off her husband without hurting him.

"Damn it H, don't do that! You'll pop a freaking stitch or something!"

"They used staples, not stiches which have been removed and the wound is fully healed…" Hannibal lowered his wife gently. "…but your wish is my command, Clarice."

Searching the air, his nostrils flared as he breathed deeply allowing the aroma in. "I thought I detected food preparation but being that I was not in the kitchen, I assumed that either I was dreaming, or I had awoken in the wrong home."

Clarice thrust her hips to the side, freeing herself from her husband's embrace. "Very funny, H…here I am scraping my knuckles trying to grate fresh cheese for your breakfast and you mock me."

"My apologies, Clarice…really I am quite touched by this." Hannibal reached for her again and moved his hands across her swelling abdomen. "How are you feeling? I notice that you have not been sleeping as soundly as is customary."

"I'll sleep better when I can rest my head on you again. I miss the sound of your heartbeat. It helps me fall asleep."

"I miss that as well, Clarice though I'm not as fragile as you seem to believe. You need not adjust your sleeping habits. It will have no ill effect on me. Please, tonight let us return to our normal routines."

Nudging his face against Clarice's and comforted by the warmth of his cheek against her skin, Hannibal rested his chin over his wife's shoulder. He growled soft and low in Clarice's ear the rumbling of it tickling her neck. He teased gently at her earlobe and moved strong his hands up and down her body, massaging her as he pulled her close.

Hannibal slowly passed his right hand up her thigh, tracing the curves of her body along her waist, over her arm and along her collarbone. He deftly slipped his hand within the fabric of her robe, gently cupped her breast and rolled his thumb across her nipple.

"Mmmmm, I've missed you, my Love."

Clarice's body tingled at the contact but she very uncharacteristically shrugged him off.

"Sorry H, no way. You're going to have to shut _that _routine down for a little while longer. The doctor said no sex for you…you're on the mend."

"I understand why you are overly concerned with my health, Clarice but I assure you, I am quite recovered. There is no need to be overprotective."

Hannibal was not one to be easily discouraged. He nuzzled his nose under Clarice's hair and began to kiss his wife's neck. Trailing along her skin he breathed deeply, inhaling her scent as he continued to brush his lips along her flesh, teasing small bites along the way.

"It isn't as if I don't want it, H. It's been just as long for me as it's been for you. If I can do without…you can do without."

"Do you realize how much I adore your scent Clarice? It has become more necessary to me than the air I breathe." He pressed his body against hers so that she could feel his need of her. "It also contradicts your last statement. You are having as much difficulty with this as I."

"C'mon, H…you're killing me!" Clarice interrupted. As much as she wanted him, and she _did_ want him, she would not let him risk his health. "The surgeon said no strenuous activities for two weeks."

Hannibal would not be dissuaded easily. He grabbed her hips and again, pulled her against him. "I am more than two weeks post- surgery and it need not be strenuous, Clarice. I promise I will behave myself. I am quite content to allow you to assume the driver's seat, so to speak."

Clarice plated the food and pulled away from Hannibal, brushing past her husband's body as she carried their meals to the table, his arousal obvious.

"Put that thing away before you hurt someone, behave yourself right now and come to the table."

"This is not conducive to my recuperation Clarice. I am being denied necessary attention and I fear it will slow my recovery."

"Sit down, shut up and eat."

Hannibal sat where directed and smiled widely as Clarice placed a full plate of food in front of him and a bowl of oatmeal beside. He was well aware that prior to their relationship, she had been perfectly content with microwaveable meals or a bowl of dry cereal. She had never been enticed by the culinary arts therefore this was quite unusual behavior for Clarice. She had always been perfectly content to allow him to prepare all of their meals. Realizing that this was her way of ensuring his recovery he mused over her newfound and definitely temporary domestication.

"Very well done Clarice, I am quite impressed."

"I've been watching you. I picked up a couple of things." Clarice was self-conscious, not at all confident of her culinary skills. She waited for his reaction as he placed the food in his mouth.

"I know it's not as fancy as anything you can prepare H, but was definitely made with love."

Hannibal carefully lifted a section of the omelet with his fork and very closely examined the selected morsel.

"Made with love _and_ eggshells apparently, Clarice."

"Don't be such a wise ass, H."

Hannibal reached across the table and held his wife's hand, running his thumb back and forth across her palm. "I was merely teasing. This is more thoughtful than I can say. It is kind of you to care for me."

The couple sat quietly, enjoying their breakfast as Mozart lilted over the intercom. Though the early morning sun usually streamed through the kitchen window, this morning the golden shafts of warm light beamed into every single window. The rays of light brightly illuminated the home, Clarice having spent a good deal of time raising all of the privacy shades. Hannibal of course, noticed.

"The home is quite bright today, Clarice… a reflection of your sunny disposition, perhaps?"

"It's more a reflection of the fact that we have nothing to hide from, H."

"Ah, yes…it is quite a thing. We should send Agent Bowman a note of thanks."

"You gave him two hundred fifty thousand dollars, H. I don't think Hallmark has anything in their inventory that can top that."

"Still, a personal, handwritten note of thanks is a courtesy too often overlooked."

"That's why I love you, H." You are ever aware of the proprieties.

"Alas, Clarice…when I am in your presence, _impropriety _is the _only_ thing on my mind."

The shimmering morning light reflected across Hannibal's profile and looking closely Clarice noticed his face was still slightly drawn. She had over the last week, become more concerned at the amount of weight her husband had lost during his brief incarceration and subsequent hospitalization.

"Make sure you eat the oatmeal as well. You still have a few pounds to put back on, H. And I'm sure your cardio could use some work. You've got to increase your muscle tone as well."

Hannibal smiled and winked at Clarice.

"I have been attempting all morning to illustrate the increase in my _muscle tone_."

"You're very funny H." Seeing Hannibal had finished his breakfast, Clarice stood to clear the table.

Seeing this as his opportunity, Hannibal moved the plate further away so that Clarice would be forced to lean over him to retrieve it. Clarice reached for the plate and Hannibal turned his chair to face her and very quickly, without warning grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap. She landed unceremoniously, now straddling him. Hannibal rapidly wrapped his arms around her.

Clarice would not pull away from him for fear of straining the muscles of his chest wall, or pulling against his injured shoulder. "That's not fair! You know I won't pull back."

"All is fair in love and war, Clarice."

Hannibal buried his face in the opening of her robe, bit the lapel and pulled the silky fabric back with his teeth to release her breasts. His breath caught in his throat from the site of her. He lowered his head to her and lavished her with attention.

"H…oh, god…H…stop."

Hannibal inhaled deeply. "Forgive me, my Love, however your scent and your words are incongruent, therefore, I must decline." He returned his attentions to her breast.

"I'm afraid for you, H." She squirmed slightly, though the contact aroused him even more.

Growing breathless from the contact and having little restraint, he rasped in her ear.

"Clarice, I will reach completion today with or without your help. I would prefer it if we could share this as I believe you are equally frustrated and think it would be far less strenuous for me than a solo run in the shower."

"Okay H. Because you're a surgeon, I'll trust your judgment if you're positive it won't hurt you."

Between teasing kisses he spoke. "I am… absolutely… certain… my Love."

Clarice lifted herself over him and lowered herself slowly along his body.

Hannibal gasped as they joined internally, they held each other as Clarice set the ground rules.

"You don't move if you can help it. I'm going very slowly and if I think you're having a problem I'm stopping, got it?"

"Yes…yes... I've got it." Hannibal made a concerted effort to slow his breathing. He didn't wish for Clarice to misconstrue his mounting passion for pain.

Clarice began to move very gently with Hannibal attempting to remain as still as possible. His wife worried about him and he would respect her wishes. He buried his head against her neck, biting gently into her deltoid muscle, careful not to mark her or break the skin.

The fire at his center burning, Hannibal kept his eyes closed very tightly wanting to stay his release to assure his wife's pleasure. With their movements so slow and protracted, if he had watched as she moved against him, he would not have been able to hold himself back. It had been for too long since their last joining and his self-control was extremely limited. He would have her satisfied first.

Clarice listened carefully to her husband's breathing. Judging that he was not in any pain, she increased her movements, increasing their pleasure. Hannibal grabbed her hips and began to pull her to him. Clarice watched his chest rise and fall.

"How are we doing, H… any pain?"

"None…I'm in heaven, my Love…you?"

"Almost there."

"Allow me." Hannibal returned his attention to her breasts, teasing until he heard three quick uptakes of breath. She held her breath for a moment. Hannibal held his breath as well.

"Relax, my Love."

Finally, a soft, airy moan escaped her lips as she surrendered herself to her passion.

The breathless sounds of ecstasy escaping his lover drove Hannibal forward.

Clarice, nearing her end, moved with much more urgency. Instinctively she reached to lean on his chest, but, feeling the contact of her hands on his scar pulled back and placed her hands behind her head.

Hannibal looked up and seeing Clarice, her arms raised fully exposing herself to him, groaned. "Clarice…my…Clarice…"

"H…H…" The waves washing over her, Clarice's body shook against Hannibal's as her delicate muscles contracted, grabbing him, holding him tightly within.

Hannibal leaned his head on Clarice's shoulder, the contact almost too intense as the exquisite spasms persisted. Taking long, deep breaths he attempted to calm himself until he was certain Clarice was sated. When her breathing began to slow, Hannibal pulled his wife close to him. Though he promised he would not move he ached for release. Resting his head on Clarice's breasts, letting his lust wrest control his hips surged with his need to fill her.

Finally, Hannibal relaxed and allowed the intense waves of his own rapture to seize control of his body.

Clarice held her husband, whispering her love in his ear as his body began to tense.

Hannibal shuddered, holding Clarice as tightly to him as he could manage, his newly healing muscles quaking from the overwhelming onslaught of his first release in several weeks.

Clarice held his shoulders and very gently moved as her husband's breathing hitched several times his body trembling in her arms. As his rapture slowly subsided and Hannibal's breathing slowly began to align with hers, Clarice took his face in her hands and tilted it toward her. She wanted to be certain he was uninjured.

"You okay, H?" She asked with no wish to hide the concern in her voice.

"I am magnificent." He held her close and whispered in her ear. "Welcome home, my Love."

**Until the next chapter!**

**LH**


	32. Chapter 32

**HELLO MY FAITHFUL FRIENDS! WELCOME BACK! **

**PROMISES MADE**

Hannibal had already showered, dressed and was attempting to wait calmly for Clarice to return from her run so they might plan for the day. He was not as successful as he would have liked.

_Come along my Love. Patience is not a virtue I have in abundance._

Thus far he was failing miserably, moving from room to room like a caged animal. Since his recent incarceration, he had been feeling far too restricted. In pain a good deal of the day, his temper had been short. He believed his wife had similar frustrations.

_Are you feeling equally pent up, Clarice…would you be amenable to a day of shopping in town? _

She would need maternity clothing soon and they had a nursery to set up. Hannibal now paced around the kitchen, listless and quite frankly a little bored.

Frustrated beyond his capacity to cope, he had attempted to stay his boredom at the piano but was forced to stop practicing. Too much repetitive movement caused him pain. Hannibal moved about the music room and rolled his shoulders, attempting to work the pain out unsuccessfully.

There was now a foreign clicking sound, a slight knot in the muscles and a constant burning of his overworked shoulders and chest. The physicality necessary to execute the pieces at the level Hannibal was accustomed required flexibility and fitness neither of which he had regained in sufficient measure. The surgery to his chest, back and shoulder restricted his range of motion and lessened his stamina dramatically. He was unable to sit and play for more than a few minutes at a time.

_How far are you running, Clarice? You rival Pheidippides!_

He left the piano room and went to the kitchen as if the change in scenery would signal a change in his mindset. Walking back and forth, his mind churned as he paced, practically wearing a trench in the flooring alongside the center island. Suddenly, Hannibal had a brainstorm, moved quickly to the counter and opened the laptop. Going into town would be enough for today, but what they needed was a distraction. He decided to go online and plan a surprise for his wife.

_It is time to show you off, my Love. _

With no reason to concern themselves with detection, after all they had been through it was time to take his wife out on the town. Hannibal quickly searched the cultural events for the following weekend to see what Buenos Aires had to offer. He decided to purchase tickets to the Teatro Colon. The Orquesta Filarmonica de Buenos Aires was having a Rachmaninoff program featuring piano concerto no. 2 in C minor op. 18 and Symphony no. 2 in E minor op. 27. Hannibal smiled. He was quite content with the idea of an evening at the philharmonic with his stunning wife at his side.

_Perfect. Clarice can visit the spa at the Four Seasons…there are museums nearby. It will be a wonderful weekend._

Hannibal had been worried about the level of stress Clarice had endured for him and the effect it may have had on her pregnancy. He believed his wife deserved a brief respite. He would pamper her.

_Time to wine and dine you, my beautiful wife._

He booked a suite at the La Mansion at the Four Seasons and hired a car for the night believing the fifteen minute walk from the hotel to the Teatro Colon might be enjoyable if the weather cooperated but a secondary plan would be needed in the event of rain.

Reaching for his wallet, the moment was surreal as Hannibal closely examined his name, boldly emblazoned on his Black card, **Hannibal Lecter VIII**. He smoothed his thumb across the evenly raised letters, this insignificant piece of imprinted plastic provided tangible proof of his current non-fugitive status.

_A name, my name…nothing more than a jumbled collection of letters, yet so much power had been hidden within it…the power to imprison…the power to be set free. What about me is changed…nothing at all but the perception of others?_

The transfer of that card had been one of the most difficult procedures during the entire switch back to his actual identity. This particular card had been obtained under one of Hannibal's oldest and most reliable aliases. It had not issued based on any application, but by personal invitation from the company. Reams of documentation from various banks and the FBI had to be provided before the name change was indeed approved.

_No longer under the radar though no longer in the crosshairs either. I don't know which is preferable._

He slipped his charge card back into his wallet, finding it a bit disconcerting to be able to use his given name to book the tickets and the accommodations. He did wonder to himself what the downside to this lack of anonymity might be other than the obvious fact that the FBI could now track his exact whereabouts at all times. Hannibal was certain this was the reason they were so helpful in transferring his aliases back to his original identity. They would always know exactly where in the world he was.

_They have me in the palm of their hand…or do they have me by the throat...Ah, the things I am willing to do for you, Clarice. _

Though it made him exceedingly uncomfortable, he allowed this assistance as the reclaiming of his name was important to Clarice. It mattered little to Hannibal. Whatever name he used was immaterial other than the obvious protection each alias had provided. Ever vigilant and unbeknownst to the FBI, Hannibal did however maintain one alias so that he and Clarice would have an emergency backup plan. He also maintained passports, credit cards and a sizable bank account for this identity in the event the need might ever arise.

Clarice arrived from her run to see Hannibal seated at the kitchen counter. Upon her entrance he quickly closed the lap top. She raised an eyebrow, curious as to what he had been doing.

_Okay...what are you up to, H?_

Her skin was glistening from the exertion of her run and Hannibal was mesmerized.

_Don't you feel eyes moving over your body Clarice?_

His heart beat faster as his eyes moved over her form, memorizing the changes in her body. He could feel the rush of blood to his cheeks as he admired the soft curve of her belly now swelling with life. There was a burning in the pit of his stomach as Hannibal's focus shifted to the perspiration that pooled in hollow of her collarbone. His breath caught in the back of his throat and he forced himself to look away, distracted as he imagined what it would feel like to dip his finger within and trace the moisture tracking a line to her breasts.

Her auburn hair fell across her shoulders, locks tumbling and curling from perspiration. Clarice was slightly out of breath. Hannibal held his breath. "You are a sight to behold, Clarice."

Seeing his reaction, Clarice smiled. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing, H?"

With a long, protracted sigh, Hannibal slowly released the breath he had retained. "For me…it is a _very, very_ good thing."

Clarice smiled at the compliment but would not be distracted. "What'cha doing, H?"

Hannibal looked up and smiled slyly. "That is a surprise, my Love."

She grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Enigmatic as ever are you? When will I find out what it is?"

"Next weekend, and don't bother to check the history on the computer, ex-Special Agent Starling as I have already deleted it."

She snapped the towel like a bullwhip at her husband, attempting to pop him on the backside with it.

His back still to his wife, upon hearing the rich terrycloth cut through the air, without turning, Hannibal reached back and with the quick snap of his wrist, snatched the end of the towel from the air a moment before it made contact with him.

"Really Clarice…an attempted assault with a towel…is that the best you can do? If your friends at the FBI could only see you now… oh how the mighty have fallen." Hannibal winked and smiling widely he moved along the length of the towel hand over hand reeling his wife in toward him.

"You know me too well, H." She laughed as she pulled back slightly feigning protest as he pulled her in.

"I know you well enough to stay one step ahead of you when it comes to planning a simple surprise."

Hannibal turned the ornately carved stool toward Clarice and pulled the towel across his body, drawing her into him. He didn't stop tugging at it until she was situated between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. He squeezed her body gently with his thighs.

Clarice held him close and whispered in his ear. "You might not have been an easy man for the FBI to track down, but thankfully, you always let _me_ catch you."

"And I always will, Clarice." Hannibal kissed his wife very tenderly, the embrace lasting several minutes.

As they kissed, Clarice opened her eyes very briefly. Her heart raced as she watched the expression on Hannibal's face. He no longer struggled with his emotions as he expressed his love for Clarice physically. An obvious tenderness overcame his features every time he kissed her. It was a look that was not present at any other time.

Hannibal's brilliant mind commanded the very core of his being every single moment of the day except when he kissed Clarice. When they kissed, his countenance took on a different kind of concentration, one _not_ of _thinking_ but of _feeling_. This soft, loving expression and the accompanying aura of vulnerability it reflected touched her very soul.

Upon seeing it, Clarice's heart swelled with love for him, warming her to the very center of her being. Unaware of her admiration, Hannibal's expression was relaxed and unguarded. Every wall, every obstacle the world had placed between them had been torn down.

Every boundary to their love now surmounted, it moved her to see the utter trust with which he regarded her. In her arms her husband was now emotionally open, completely defenseless, and absolutely and utterly content to be so.

As he finally pulled back from the kiss, the moment they separated, she could still feel the indelible impression of his lips on hers. The impression made on her heart was equally indelible and absolutely more significant.

Clarice was breathless, resting her head on her husband's shoulder. Hannibal spoke first.

"I'm feeling a bit caged today. Are you in the mood to get out this afternoon? We haven't left the compound since our return. I thought you might like to go into town today? Perhaps do some shopping." Hannibal hoped that Clarice had been feeling as trapped as he.

Her curiosity was piqued. "Shopping for what?"

Hannibal lifted a length of her hair and twirled it absentmindedly around his index finger. "Nothing in particular...anything…everything…it is my desire to spoil you, Clarice. Not to mention, we have a baby to prepare for."

"I've been going a little stir crazy so I would really love that, H. When do you want to leave?"

"I had intended to spend the entire day with you, have brunch, the shopping and possibly dinner depending upon my stamina. We needn't return home until much later this evening. We can leave as soon as you have showered, if that is to your liking."

Clarice kissed him excitedly. "It is exactly to my liking, H. I'll hop in the shower and I'll be ready in no time."

"I'll join you in the bedroom. I have to prepare myself as well."

Clarice was thrown by his last comment. Hannibal was fully dressed and she wondered what preparations remained. Hannibal joined Clarice and as she was more than a little curious she watched him very carefully.

Hannibal walked over to his dresser and opened a small leather case. Clarice immediately recognized what he was doing and became instantly agitated.

"What the hell are you doing?" She sounded displeased and her tone gave Hannibal pause.

He remained calm. "I am inserting the colored lenses to mask my irises, Clarice."

She moved across the room and put her hand on his arm, interrupting the process. Her voice was raised more in frustration than anger but she remained absolutely adamant.

"No…no more…I don't ever want to see those lenses again! There's no goddamned reason for it!"

Clarice put her arms around her husband's neck and fixed her gaze on him, her sincerity evident. "Please, I love them… don't hide your eyes…don't hide yourself. There's no need."

Hannibal kissed her gently, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He rested his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her close to him. He could feel her heart racing against his rib cage. This was obviously something she felt very strongly about.

"I appreciate your support but I was not covering them because I feel the need to hide. I was covering them for _your_ comfort, Clarice."

He turned back to the mirror and believing he had provided an acceptable response, proceeded.

Again, she stayed his hand, however this time she removed the case from his hand, tossed it in one of the drawers of his dresser, and slammed it closed.

"You can just pretend those are gone. I don't ever want to see them covering your eyes again. And what the hell is that supposed to mean anyway? Why would the lenses be for my comfort? You know how much I love your eyes and how much I hated that you were forced to cover them!"

Hannibal turned toward Clarice and laced his fingers through hers, holding her hands against his chest.

"Clarice, you have never lived in a world where anyone other than your small circle of friends has interacted with me as Hannibal Lecter, maroon irises and all. It can be extremely disconcerting. People have long been afraid of my eyes. Even before my so called crimes. People will most definitely stare and comments will be made, discreetly perhaps, but that is not certain."

"I could care less if people stare, H."

"Still, I thought the lenses would lessen the attention paid to us. We have been in the news quite a bit as of late and our small town has its share of tourists. The locals will be polite because they have interacted with us previously and therefore, on some level feel they know us. The visitors are quite another thing."

Clarice still did not understand. She placed Hannibal's hands on her waist and reached for him. "Still…I don't get it… why would the lenses be for my benefit?"

"I wouldn't want you to be embarrassed or…"

Hannibal thought better of the comment he was about to make and stopped mid-sentence.

Clarice was never one to shy from an argument. She chased Hannibal down with her questions. "Or what, H…? What were you about to say?"

Hannibal lowered his head. "Leave it be."

She reached for his chin and lifted his face to hers, challenging him with her eyes. "Yeah, not likely…finish your sentence, H."

"Clarice…" Hannibal held her gaze but held his hands up in supplication, seeking to calm her.

Clarice could feel the heat of anger flush her face. "Finish your thought…embarrassed or what, H?"

He took a deep breath and let the words fall. "I wouldn't want you to be…ashamed to be with me."

Clarice sat back on the bed, utterly flabbergasted by the suggestion.

"What? What did you just say? I can't believe you just said that to me, H. I can't believe it. How could you ever think I would be ashamed of you or embarrassed to be with you? I married you! I took your name! Your _real_ name! I want _everyone t_o see me with you…with the _real _you!"

"People will not react as you believe. There will be those who will be…afraid of me. Putting my recent actions aside, my past will most definitely precede me."

Hannibal took a seat on the bed beside Clarice and faced her. She was upset and he was the cause.

"This will not be an easy transition. There will be…challenges. If it is your wish that I face the world as I am, I will do so however, you must promise that you will face it with me, my Love… no regrets."

"I promise, H...no regrets."

Hannibal took his wife in his arms. His heart was heavy, knowing that her promise to him, sincere though it may have been…would eventually be impossible for her to keep.


	33. Chapter 33

**ON THE TOWN**

Clarice tapped her foot in anticipation causing Hannibal to reach over the gear shift of the BMW and place his hand on her knee to steady it. He did not remove it.

"Driving your foot against the floorboard repeatedly will not cause us to arrive any sooner, Clarice."

Clarice smiled widely. "Sorry H. It's just been so long since we did anything…normal."

"What we did this morning would be considered quite normal." Hannibal added with a devilish grin, rolling his palm over her knee in small circles. Sensing no resistance, he arched his fingertips and trailed them along the inside of her thigh, reaching for the joining beneath her skirt.

Clarice could feel her cheeks flush as she hesitantly stopped his hand. "Normal…yes, but not at fifty miles per hour, and not something done on a crowded roadway in the company of others"

Hannibal laughed out loud. "Well, not in the finest of social circles anyway."

"That's why I love you, H. When you laugh like that, it makes my life worth living."

"You have made my life worth living as well. You are my joy and I am humbled beyond measure that you have chosen me."

Clarice reached up and lovingly swept the hair back from Hannibal's forehead. Words would have cheapened the moment. Several minutes passed as the pair enjoyed the ride and each other's company in silence. Nothing need be said that could not be expressed much more articulately through an endearing glance between them or the whisper of flesh touching flesh.

Clarice noticed that Hannibal's attention was half on his driving and half on her, his eyes shifting between her and the road ahead. When he was forced to swerve the car slightly to avoid an animal in the road, she gently reprimanded him. "You really should keep your eyes on the road, H. Baby on board, remember?"

"My apologies my Love, I cannot keep my attention from you. I am positively smitten."

Her innate goodness was one of her most endearing and attractive qualities but it was also the aspect of her personality that troubled Hannibal the most. She was at times far too optimistic and trusting.

Hannibal could see his wife's eyes sparkling with anticipation at a simple afternoon spent shopping with him.

_So pleased with the simplest of things, Clarice…how I envy you. So full of life and so thrilled to be a part of it._

The remainder of the drive into town was filled with anticipation for Clarice and rising trepidation for Hannibal. Clarice, with all of her childhood tragedies and all of her experience as an FBI agent, a true warrior in every sense of the word, remained an innocent in many ways. She believed in the intrinsic goodness of people. Hannibal had very different life experiences and as such, a diametrically opposed opinion of humanity. Trust was not in his nature.

_For your sake, my Love…I hope this goes well._

Clarice believed that people had the very best motivations in most circumstances.

Hannibal believed that large portions of the population were intellectually deficient, morally bankrupt and bereft of any redeeming qualities whatsoever. In other words, Hannibal believed most human beings were an absolute waste of the skin that covered them, tasty though that skin may be.

"Where shall we go first?" Hannibal asked, attempting to appear as excited as she. "The day is yours to plan, Clarice."

"Food would be my first thought if I have the choice." She offered enthusiastically as she tracked a finger over his hand. She tenderly traced the ridges of his knuckles as he shifted the car to a lower gear to accommodate a pedestrian. "But you probably already guessed that."

"One doesn't need a degree in forensic psychology to decipher that a pregnant woman might be hungry by this time of day. Not that you need pregnancy to justify hunger. Your appetite would rival most men."

"Are you calling me fat, H?" She laughed, feigning indignation.

"Not at all, my Love…I am referring to your enviously efficient metabolism not your girth which is expanding, but not because you have indulged in too much food. Rather because your husband has indulged in too much _you_. I accept full responsibility as the lack of self-control in that area rests fully on my shoulders. I simply cannot resist you."

Hannibal reached a loving hand to her, smoothly passed it under her hair, brushing the locks aside and rested it on the nape of her neck. Once there he gently massaged the muscles of her upper back, his thumb firmly kneading the taut striations framing her spine.

A gentle sigh escaped her lips as she leaned into the contact. "Hmmmmm, oh, H…you're incredible."

"Another sound such as that and I will be forced to pull this car over and _indulge_ for a second time today."

"H, food now…sex later." She teased, slapping him playfully.

"I will wait, if I must…though only for the sake of your health, Clarice."

Hannibal pulled into a parking lot just outside a small bistro.

"How does this suit you?"

"If they've got food it suits me fine."

Hannibal parked the car and the pair walked, hands joined, to the restaurant. He was wearing sunglasses, perfect cover as they walked the streets together. He was concerned however, that while indoors his unmasked irises would make for an uncomfortable afternoon.

"This was a wonderful choice, H." Clarice commented as she admired the post and beam ceiling.

The bistro had wide black tables and chairs with bright white linens in contrast. The interior was dim and Hannibal was glad for it. The darker the interior, the more non-descript the pair became. The host greeted them warmly and Clarice smiled. The gentleman did a very quick, almost indiscernible double take when his eyes caught Hannibal's but he was quick to redirect and regroup. It was obvious the recognition was instantaneous, but the host remained professional and affable.

Hannibal was pleased by the understated reaction.

_A diplomatic man, he showed obvious recognition yet only a brief flash of concern .This is promising._

The pair were now seated comfortably and Clarice was more than a little excited to see something familiar on the menu.

"Pizza H! They've got pizza!"

"Yes, my Love…I see. You wouldn't rather have the trout or the salmon?"

"You're kidding me, right?" She looked at him absolutely deadpan and unwavering in her choice.

"Pizza it is. Anything at all that pleases you, Clarice."

Ever watchful, Hannibal noticed the host called the waiter over and gestured discreetly to their table. He gave the young man instructions one could assume directly related to their presence.

_Perhaps you have provided a warning to the young man? Afraid of the boogey man, I suppose?_

The waiter approached the table and introduced himself, careful to either keep his eyes politely lowered or directed to Clarice as he accepted the order graciously. The young man was cautious and gave Hannibal's eyes only a cursory inspection. He was very friendly and attentive to Clarice and that please Hannibal greatly.

_A very experienced waiter...if you are kind to a man's wife and he will be far more generous._

The food was delivered quickly and with exceeding efficiency. Clarice was more than thrilled with the pizza. Hannibal ordered steak, rare. He was satisfied that she was enjoying her meal and even more pleased that she seemed quite oblivious to the surrounding activity. Not only to the discomfort her husband's presence seemed to be generating, but to the discomfort he was feeling.

_People watching my every move as if I'm on display again...the only thing missing is the glass for them to hide me behind…tedious, very tedious. _

Hannibal's facial expression remained unaltered. He appeared content and thrilled to be in her company. He would not have her uncomfortable, therefore Hannibal was careful to keep his wife's attention focused on him each time the waiter entered the kitchen. It was at this time that he spotted members of the kitchen staff peeking through the door clamoring over each other to see him as the waiter delivered their dinner.

_I do not sense fear…I sense from them…a collective curiosity, perhaps? _

The very same thing occurred when Clarice ordered dessert. The staff practically spilled out of the kitchen and onto the floor, everyone huddled, climbing over one another other much like hamsters. The desperate attempt to see into the dining room before the kitchen's large swinging door closed and the flurry of activity it created was disconcerting. Each person had to jockey quickly for position as the doors were only open long enough to allow the waiter to leave the kitchen and deliver the final course of the meal.

As Clarice enjoyed a large wedge of homemade cake, Hannibal sipped his coffee. He was more than aware of the curious eyes on him, and he was more than grateful that his wife was not equally aware. She would not have let such unwanted attention go unchallenged.

The waiter delivered the check. Hannibal paid, being sure to leave an exceedingly generous tip. Forced to wait as Clarice finished her dessert, Hannibal wondered what the reaction would be. Instead of figuring percentages, he decided, by way of thanking the waiter for his attentiveness to Clarice and his discretion, Hannibal doubled the amount of the bill.

The waiter returned quietly with change, assuming by the excessive amount that a mistake had been made. Hannibal waved him away and smiled. "That is not necessary. I appreciate your kind and attentive service."

"Thank you so much, Doctor Lecter."

As soon as that infamous appellation left his mouth the waiter was utterly crestfallen. At the use of Hannibal's name the young man immediately panicked, realizing they had not been introduced formally. He stood in front of Hannibal, frozen in his steps, staring into Lecter's intense maroon eyes totally dumbstruck, mute with absolute terror.

Hannibal recognized the flash of fear in the young man's eyes and was initially quite pleased by it. Thinking it would be preferable to leave the restaurant and be welcomed in future upon return Hannibal sought to reassure the frazzled waiter by extending his hand.

The waiter, his body practically collapsing in on itself with relief, accepted Hannibal's gesture and shook his hand.

"You are quite welcome, young man. Please allow me to introduce to you my lovely wife, Clarice."

Clarice looked up and after a brief pause to swallow the bite of cake she placed in her mouth, nodded to the young man, put down her fork and extended her hand.

"Hi…pleased to meet you."

"I'm pleased to meet you as well, Mrs. Lecter. If there is anything else either of you wish please do not hesitate."

"There is one more thing, if you don't mind. I noticed your staff seemed to be curious. If you would please ask anyone who wishes to stop by our table, I would be happy to meet them and thank them for preparing such a wonderful meal."

Clarice looked at Hannibal, totally confused by this suggestion.

The very excited waiter disappeared from the table as quickly as good manners would allow.

She leaned over and whispered across the table. "H? What the hell is going on?"

"Our neighbors have been staring out from the kitchen and it is painfully obvious they are curious. I would rather they meet us and realize there is no threat, than have them concerned when I am in their midst. I told you the locals would not be a problem. They merely want to have a closer look."

Suddenly the kitchen door swung open and members of the staff poured out and surrounded Hannibal's table. One by one he greeted each of them, the women were gushing, the men in awe. Hannibal was uncomfortable with the attention but tolerated the interaction with dignity and grace.

_This is exceedingly uncomfortable. I've had body cavity searches that were less intrusive._

Clarice looked at the mini fan club surrounding her husband and was quite amused. When the last of the kitchen staff returned, Hannibal thanked the waiter and host and the pair left the restaurant arm in arm, Hannibal intentionally stealing kisses from Clarice as the staff watched.

Clarice held her husband close to her as they walked in tandem, arms around each other's waists. "I'm amazed you tolerated that. You have the patience of a saint, H."

Hannibal laughed at the parallel. "And therein is where the comparison ends, my Love."

"So what do we do now, H?"

"Again, I defer to you, Mrs. Lecter…what is next on the agenda?"

"Shopping, H …lots and lots of shopping."

Excited, Clarice focused her attention on the next part of their adventure. Wary, Hannibal focused his attention on everything else.

**Review to let me know what you think then drop me a pm and say hello! **

**Until the next chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: It's been a while since I included this- you know the routine! **

**Thomas Harris created the characters I don't own them! I am merely the author of the machinations spinning within my own dark mind! **

Hannibal donned his sunglasses and feeling much more secure escorted his wife to a lovely boutique specializing in maternity clothing. He sat, legs crossed comfortably,sunglasses still firmly in place, in a large wing chair and waited patiently as Clarice and the shopkeeper moved through racks of clothing and assembled outfits. Clarice tried on each and every one as Hannibal watched.

"What about this one, H?" Clarice questioned as she lifted hanger after hanger for Hannibal's approval.

He sat, nodding his affirmative response exactly as he had for each and every choice she had previously presented.

Clarice was obviously extremely frustrated and agitated by the process. "Husband?"

"Yes Wife?" Hannibal answered in kind, taking note of the edge in her voice and careful not to match it.

"You're no help at all!" She thrust the hanger with no small measure of aggression onto the clothing rack, now filled to capacity with her choices.

Hannibal was perplexed by Clarice's reaction though the only evidence of this, a slight tilt of his head. His mind tumbled, assessing the various stimuli as he attempted to process possible reasons for her frustration. He lowered his sunglasses, sliding them down the bridge of his nose and peered over top of them as if his uncovered eyes could extrapolate more data.

Though he clearly heard it, he made no note of the storekeeper's reaction as her breath caught in her throat upon seeing his burning irises.

_Why are you so upset Clarice…you've had lunch…not a drop in blood sugar…I have been quite attentive…you are shopping for clothing…I'm willing to spend copious amounts of money to… please…you…copious amounts…Ah, Clarice…as fiscally conservative as ever._

Hannibal removed his sunglasses, folded them and placed them in the breast pocket of his loosely fitted linen suit. He then pushed himself up from the chair and strode confidently to his wife, placed his arms around her waist and held her close.

"Are you feeling quite alright, Clarice?"

"I'm fine!" She answered sarcastically.

Clarice hated trying on clothing and she was feeling less than attractive because of the changes her body was undergoing. She kept her eyes downcast feeling more than a little hurt because she believed her husband was hiding behind his sunglasses and paying little attention.

Hannibal reached for her face, cupped it gently in his hands and kissed the tip of her nose. He then smiled broadly and this caused Clarice to smile. Hannibal spoke softly to her by way of an apology.

"Please do not be upset with me my Love, I was not ignoring you. I had merely assumed you would want them all. I hadn't realized you were you counting on me to choose."

"I'm only going to do this once, H. One baby that's it…why would I need _all _of this?"

"I would have you contented and well cared for Clarice."

"All I need for that, H are your arms around me."

Hannibal kissed her lips very gently then turned toward the rack of clothing.

"Please, tell me how many items you would be comfortable with and I will help you pare down your choices."

"I would do fine with a third of this, H."

"Very well, Clarice…your wish is my command."

Hannibal very quickly pulled out each of the items he assessed flattered Clarice's coloring, and suited his tastes. It took mere seconds as he had paid very careful attention when she was modeling the outfits. Within two or three minutes he finished, having separated a little less than half of the selections for purchase and arm in arm they accompanied the clerk to the sleek mahogany counter for payment.

Clarice hugged Hannibal's arm. "That was more than I suggested, H."

"Just _slightly_ more than you suggested, Clarice. There is a need for formal wear in your maternity wardrobe therefore I included appropriate items from the designer collection for that purpose as well."

"Formal wear? Why?"

"As I explained earlier Clarice, it is a surprise."

Hannibal passed his credit card to the cashier. She processed the transaction and waved a young man over to the counter.

"Mario, could you please assist Doctor Lecter and his wife with their purchases?"

"Doctor Lecter? Hannibal Lecter?" The young man stood clearly terrified at the mere mention of the name. He did not approach instead he backed up along the wall. "Hannibal… the…_Cannibal_?"

Hannibal's reaction was understated. "It is just Hannibal now."

The shopkeeper was obviously embarrassed by the boy's reaction. Hannibal understood. This young man was clearly of the age where a good deal of his time would be spent on the internet. Some of the sites associated with his name and his crimes were quite lurid, more than a few of them were extremely graphic and included crime scene photos. Whatever the boy had seen…he was terrified and Hannibal was the cause of it. Hannibal was actually quite amused by this reaction.

_Young men are attracted to shock sites and I was often quite shocking…at least when the mood was upon me. One would think by your age you had been at least somewhat desensitized. You are quite the lightweight, young man!_

Clarice was obviously enraged. She moved to step around Hannibal and challenge the boy. Seeing the fight rising within her, he quickly encircled her waist and held her closely to him, her shoulders resting against his chest. He could feel her body heaving in anger. He was able to halt her physical progress but could do nothing to quell her rage.

"You little son of a…"

Hannibal interrupted her quietly whispering in her ear. "Shhh, Clarice. Please."

Her lips closed though her mind boiled. _You little wimp… I should bitch slap you for that!_

Her husband recognized her frustration as he had on more than one occasion been on the receiving end of Clarice's deadly stares and they were quite often followed by a raging tirade.

The shopkeeper was obviously absolutely mortified. "I'm so sorry Doctor Lecter…Mrs. Lecter." She directed her attention to the young man. "Mario, go home. I'll speak to you about this later!"

Clarice's eyes did not leave the young man until he was out of sight, burning into him like a laser.

Hannibal sought to diffuse his wife's anger by responding in an exceedingly restrained and polite manner. It wouldn't have taken much to set her off and though this day was designed for her pleasure her agitation was mounting by the minute.

"That is perfectly understandable for the young man to be…nervous. There is no need to reprimand him. I am not offended. As to the clothing, we actually have quite a bit more shopping to do. Would you please be so kind as to deliver the purchases to our home tomorrow?"

Hannibal quickly wrote their address on the invoice and handed the paperwork back to the woman.

The shopkeeper was relieved by Hannibal's gracious response. "Certainly Doctor Lecter, it will arrive early tomorrow afternoon if that is agreeable to you. It was a pleasure to meet you both."

"It was a pleasure to meet you as well, thank you."

Clarice didn't speak until they were outside. As soon as she hit the fresh air, she raged.

"Oh my god… H! I wanted to snap that little bastard's neck!"

"Relax, Clarice. He is but a boy. I am a grown man. If I let a young pup such as that get under my skin what would that say about my self-control, not to mention my level of maturity?"

Clarice was literally shaking with fury. "Are you insinuating that I am being immature because I'm upset?"

"Not at all Clarice…I am very touched that you wished to defend me."

"I'm sick to my stomach, H. Take me home."

"Are you certain, Clarice? We could look at furniture for the nursery."

"Not today, H. I've had about as much excitement as I can stand for one day."

"Understood."

Hannibal walked quietly beside his wife. He was well aware of the impact his notoriety would have on their relationship. He had in fact tried to warn her. Though it was his hope she would be emotionally strong enough to cope with situations such as this, he hadn't taken into consideration that her pregnancy would complicate matters. She was far more emotional than was the norm for her.

Clarice did not speak on the ride home. Even her body language distanced her. She kept herself turned from Hannibal. She leaned against the door and stared aimlessly out of the window.

Hannibal allowed Clarice the distance she was seeking. He understood the commutation of his sentences would be a double edged sword. He wondered what Clarice was thinking.

Hannibal parked the car and as was his habit, moved around the vehicle to open Clarice's car door. Before he could reach her door, she opened it herself and got out.

Hannibal stopped in his tracks and watched as Clarice walked into their house alone. He paced outside trying to decide how to best respond. He didn't wish to exacerbate the situation and decided it would be best to enter the home as if nothing had happened. Challenging Clarice when she was already in an argumentative mood was never a very good idea. She wanted distance. He would oblige.

Hannibal entered the home through the main entrance, paused in the foyer and placed his wallet and keys in the crystal dish. He stood very quietly and listened. He searched the air for her scent.

_Not on this level? Upstairs…Why?_

He stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened carefully. His heart sank.

_She's crying._

He wanted desperately to go to her. He wanted to hold her and tell her things were going to get better but he couldn't. She didn't want comfort from him.

_Perhaps she will call Ardelia. _

Hannibal left the foyer and went into the music room.

_If she hears the piano, she may come back downstairs._

Hannibal walked quietly to the piano room, sat at his grand, and began to play all the while thinking of his wife.

_Take some time for yourself, Clarice but please do not sleep in the guest room tonight._

Clarice sat on the bed and looked around the room. This was the room she had picked out for the baby. It was bright and on the side of the house that received the most light. She had planned to put the crib on the far wall away from the window, a changing table next to the door and a large armoire for clothing beside it. She wanted to pick the furniture out today so that she could set the room up before Thanksgiving, now just a little more than a week away.

_That kid just made me so goddamned mad!_

She rested on the bed.

_Thanksgiving just a little more than a week away…Our first Thanksgiving together…Hannibal's first Thanksgiving…ever._

Clarice sat up.

_Hannibal._

Clarice went downstairs and waited outside the piano room door, just for a moment so that he would know she was there.

The playing stopped.

"Clarice?"

She opened the door and peaked inside.

"Hey, H."

"Can I help you at all? Do you have need of me?"

Clarice ran her hand up and down the door frame. "I was thinking of going online and looking for furniture to decorate the baby's room."

"Tired of the stores Clarice? I can't say that I blame you."

"I shouldn't have put you through that, H. You warned me…I didn't listen. I'm sorry. It must have been so awkward for you."

"Not at all, Clarice…I am unaffected. I have told you before that I am unconcerned with disgrace or public shaming. There is no shame in me therefore I take little heed of the petty perceptions of the people that surround me. It was my hope that you would be similarly unaffected. I am sorry that was not the case. Perhaps the pregnancy makes you somewhat more susceptible to emotional triggers, hormone levels being what they are. In any case, you are not at fault. You have no blame in this."

"You're not upset with me?"

"Not at all my Love, if you are planning to choose the décor for the child's room, I would be more than happy to sit with you while you decide."

Hannibal left the piano, crossed the room and joined Clarice. He took her hand and kissed it.

"Come my Love, let us go and find a crib for the little one."

Hannibal followed Clarice to the kitchen. They sat beside one another. Clarice looked at Hannibal and smiled.

"I really do love you, H…no matter what anyone thinks, or says, or does…I'll always love you."

"And I will _only_ love you, Clarice."

Hannibal watched Clarice as she excitedly searched the internet for furniture to decorate their baby's room. She shifted her eyes from Hannibal, back to the computer and back once more to her husband. She looked at him with love. Unlike earlier, she was happy. Hannibal wished he could find a way to keep her happy. As much as he wished it to be so…he did not believe it would be possible.

_What will you do when you realize that your child's father is no longer Marco Aurelio Dante, but is now Hannibal the Cannibal? Will you look at me with the same love in your eyes when our child must hear that name?_

Hannibal wanted the answer to be yes, however wishing for a thing, no matter how fervent the desire, will not make it so. Much to his dismay, Hannibal would find that out sooner rather than later.

**Until the next chapter!**

**LH**


	35. Chapter 35

**Welcome back, my friends!**

**NESTING**

Hannibal paced nervously about the house. The furniture for the nursery was an hour overdue. This complicated the plans for his surprise trip to Buenos Aires. There was a plane to catch from the local airport to the city, the car would be arriving in less than two hours and Hannibal did not wish to be rushed. He was growing more and more impatient by the moment. When the intercom sounded from the security gate he rushed to answer it.

"Yes, may I help you?"

"Hello we have a delivery of furniture for Doctor and Mrs. Hannibal Lecter. Do we have the correct address?"

"Yes, just a moment. The gate will open for you. Pull to the end of the drive and park beside the home. I will meet you directly."

Hannibal notified Clarice and the pair went out to greet the delivery men. Clarice was bursting with excitement. Hannibal was attempting to approximate the appropriate level of anticipation, but was far more concerned with the journey ahead than the arrival of workers into their home which seemed an inconvenient intrusion at best.

"This is exciting, H…isn't it. Doesn't it make the baby more real?"

Hannibal stood behind his wife and pulled her hips against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered in her ear very playfully.

"One would think the constant interruption of sleep due to bladder relief would have achieved that end, Clarice."

His breath tickled and she shrugged her shoulders as she laughed. "Don't be such a wise ass, H."

Again, he grabbed her and whispered low in her ear, nibbling on it playfully as he teased her.

"Your education in that area must be lacking. I would be more than happy to provide you with a gross anatomy lesson later this evening, Clarice. That particular area of my anatomy is not wherein my brain resides, nor does it control my thinking."

Not one to let his mocking comments go without response Clarice reached back grabbed his hips and moved her body against his. The low growl from the back of his throat was the only vindication she needed but she couldn't help but tease him verbally as well.

"As you can see, I know what part of your anatomy controls your thinking and believe me it isn't found in your cranium. It's about three feet south of that and it's the reason we're out here waiting for baby furniture! Just stop getting your knickers in a twist or the only action you'll be seeing this weekend will be a date with your right hand."

Hannibal laughed out loud at her response. Clarice was the only person he had ever met who had the intelligence and the nerve to confidently match wits with him and he thrived on the stimulation she provided.

"I am ever amused by your colorfully profane banter, Clarice. The FBI locker room has proved to be quite the finishing school. Were the classes offered at the truck stop and shipping yard filled to capacity, perhaps?"

"You just smile and pretend you love every minute of this!" She laughed.

Hannibal slipped his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and gently grasped her buttocks. As she leaned in, he shifted his hips against her and growled his pleasure into her ear.

"Hmmm…lovely… now I don't have to pretend. I am most definitely loving every minute of this."

Clarice shot a playful elbow into Hannibal's ribs as the truck pulled up in front of the house.  
>As she attempted to pull away Hannibal held her and whispered huskily in her ear.<p>

"You might want to wait a moment before you move, my Love or I may give these young men a bit of an inferiority complex."

Clarice pulled away from her husband and wriggled forward until his hands fell out of her pockets.

"You'll survive, H."

"Of course I will survive, but it will be hard…very, very, hard."

"Funny, H…very, very funny."

Hannibal was quite pleased with the double entendre. "Yes, I thought it was quite amusing, thank you, Clarice.

"You just hold the door open and I'll take them upstairs."

"Whatever you wish Clarice."

Hannibal held the door open as the delivery men carried the large furniture into the home. Clarice slipped past Hannibal, moved ahead of the men, and led them into the room upstairs. In less than half an hour the men had carried the furniture, removed the packing materials and placed the pieces exactly where Clarice directed them.

Clarice worked in the room beside the men, adding the bedding and some of the accessories she had purchased with the furniture. When the workers finished, she escorted the men down the stairs. She called down the stairs to Hannibal, knowing he would be listening.

"H, we've finished. The gentlemen are leaving."

Hannibal had been in the bedroom, packing for their surprise trip. He quickly walked to the foyer, retrieved his wallet, gave each man a one hundred peso note and thanked them.

Clarice was thrilled. She waved her hands, beckoning him excitedly. "Come on, H. Come look at the furniture now that it's all set up. It's adorable."

Hannibal took her by the hand and allowed himself to be lead up the stairs. His head lowered, he was getting frustrated and was obviously concerned about the time.

"We have a time constraint that you are unaware of Clarice. My surprise for you begins soon. We must be ready within the hour. Very soon the car I hired will arrive."

Clarice stopped on the top step causing Hannibal to stop on the step just below. She lifted his chin so that she could look directly into his eyes.

"Hannibal Lecter…two minutes of your time to look at the baby's room won't make us late for… whatever."

"Using my full name Clarice? Have I been naughty, my Love? Are you going to give me a time out in our child's room?"

Clarice laughed as she visualized Hannibal sitting in a corner. "Shut up, H."

They entered the room and Hannibal marveled at how Clarice's eyes danced with anticipation. The furniture was very traditional with deeply carved wood. The wood was bright white and the curves of the sleigh style crib had the appearance of a lyre. The changing table had equally deep scrolling curves. The armoire and crib side table finished the room giving it an almost musical appearance.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

Hannibal looked into her eyes. _She is heaven_.

"It is actually quite lovely… very beautiful, Clarice. You have done an amazing job."

He watched his wife as she moved around the room, smiling widely and immediately understood her need to enjoy the space. She visited each piece and ran her hands over the scrolled wood. Hannibal quietly followed behind her, silently sharing this experience with her.

_The new mother is nesting. She needs time…if the driver arrives…he can wait._

Hannibal waited patiently for Clarice to have her fill of the room. He would not bring up the plans he made.

Clarice reached for Hannibal and held his hand as they moved around the space together.

Hannibal was touched by his wife's maternal instincts. It wasn't something he had ever considered. Not something he had imagined, but here…now…to him she had become the image of motherhood.

_Nothing is as important to her as this moment in time…it is not something to rush. Everything else is secondary. _

When Clarice had circled the room several times, it dawned on her that Hannibal had plans. "I'm sorry…I almost forgot about your plans. Where are going, H?"

"I have arranged for a weekend in Buenos Aires, my Love. The Teatro Colon is having a Rachmaninoff program tomorrow night. We have a private suite at the Four Seasons and I have booked time for you at the spa after breakfast tomorrow morning. It will be a wonderful weekend. I have already packed for us, though I have one question for you, my Love."

"What's that, H?"

"My contact lenses...what is your preference, in or out, Clarice?"

"Out, H…definitely out. When your eyes are covered…I miss you."

"There will be stares…comments made. Are you certain?"

"I can handle it if you can, H."

"Very well, Clarice. Freshen up if you have need. The driver will arrive within the hour. I will bring our bags to the door."

Clarice reached for her husband. There, in the room of their future child, she was feeling very emotional. She held him tightly and smoothed her arms back and forth across his shoulders and back.

"Thank you, H."

Hannibal held her close and kissed the top of her head. He was touched by her tenderness. "You are thanking me for what reason Clarice?"

"For taking such good care of us…me and the baby. I know you have plans…you didn't rush me. It was very sweet of you, H. It means so much to me!"

"You have no need to thank me. You are my life, Clarice."

"And the baby… H…you never talk about the baby."

Hannibal held her close, holding his cheek against hers as he spoke. He placed both of his palms on her belly as if he were cradling the baby.

"This life is a part of us, Clarice. I love this child now every bit as much as I love you. I apologize if I have not made that clear. Rest assured, neither of you will ever want for a thing. It is now my life's work to love and protect you both."

Clarice linked her arm through Hannibal's arm.

"Come on, H…it's your turn to lead me around."

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	36. Chapter 36

**WELCOME BACK FRIENDS!**

The flight to Buenos Aires and the journey to the hotel went without incident. Upon check in, Hannibal received his fair share of stares and double takes, but for the most part people were either extremely polite or very cautious in their presence. Some, without being _exceedingly_ obvious moved away from them, giving a very wide berth.

The entire process irritated Clarice and she made mention of it to her husband as soon as they were alone in their suite. Hannibal placed their bags on the end of the bed and opened them so that Clarice could unpack. She paced back and forth between the closet, the chest of drawers and the luggage. Her nervous energy was obvious. Hannibal stepped aside allowing his wife the room to pace back and forth.

"Doesn't it make you angry, H?" Clarice asked as she aggressively opened a garment bag.

Hannibal winced as she manhandled the zipper. "Doesn't what make me angry, Clarice?"

Angrily and showing just the smallest measure of restraint she whipped Hannibal's tuxedo from the bag and carried it to the closet. "How people react when they see you? Jesus! I am so pissed off!"

She slammed the hanger on the closet rod. "Doesn't it make you crazy?"

_What makes me crazy is the way you are handling a two thousand dollar tuxedo! _

"Not at all…why would it?" Hannibal did not flinch. He was careful not to add his emotions to the mix as he wanted his wife to process what she was feeling. He watched as she moved back to the luggage.

Clarice reached for the Yves Saint Laurent evening gown Hannibal purchased her for the trip. Realizing that it was more expensive than his tuxedo he stepped in and took the dress from the garment bag himself.

"Allow me to handle this for you, Clarice while you sit and relax a moment." He carried the dress to the closet and placed it very delicately beside his tuxedo. He double checked the tuxedo and when he was certain there was no concern, turned toward his wife.

"Please keep in mind that you did not have a choice. I did offer to wear the lenses, after all my eyes are what identify me. Without them I become very nondescript, at which point you would not be experiencing this level of discomfort."

"Why should you have to alter your appearance? It just makes me absolutely _crazy_! I don't get why it doesn't bother you."

Hannibal stood very calmly in front of his wife. He adored her but found her to be quite perplexing. She allowed herself to be ruled by her emotions at times and pregnant women in particular have wide emotional swings. He was struggling to keep up with her.

Clarice was sitting on the edge of the bed next to the suitcase, fuming. Hannibal removed the luggage and sat beside her. He leaned into her, the full length of their arms touching, and nudged her playfully with his shoulder. He was careful to keep his voice soft and devoid of emotion.

"Clarice, there is nothing that anyone can do, aside from hurting you, that will have any effect on me. Their reactions are just that…_theirs._ It would be best if you would adopt a similar attitude. People only have power over you to the extent that you yourself allow it. Your response will not change their reactions nor will it alter their perception of me. It is a waste of your time and your emotional energy."

Clarice was still obviously rankled. "When you say that…I know you're right, but I can't help it."

Hannibal placed a hand on her knee seeking to reassure. "In time you will not even notice it, Clarice."

"I might get used to it…I might even accept it, but I'll always notice it." She flopped backward onto the bed. "I'm exhausted. Would you mind if I took a nap before dinner?"

Hannibal nodded. "I think that would be prudent. It's been quite a busy day. Would you mind if I went for a walk while you are sleeping? There is a lovely cemetery not far, La Recoleta. The tombs are quite impressive. Unless it is something you might like to visit it as well? The architecture and sculptures are renowned."

"No, that's okay, H. I'll pass on the cemetery. Dead people aren't my idea of a good time. I don't really care how impressive their tombs are…they're still just as dead. You go stretch your legs. I'll be fine."

Clarice rested on the bed and suddenly, just as Hannibal was preparing to leave, she started to giggle.

Hannibal stopped with his hand still on the door handle. "Is something amusing you, Clarice?"

"I was just imagining you, walking through that cemetery. It's getting late and when the sun starts to set your pupils will dilate. I can just imagine some poor bastard bumping into you with your eyes glowing. You're going to give someone a goddamned heart attack!"

"I am so heartened to be a source of amusement for you, my Love. Enjoy your rest."

"Enjoy the dead people!"

Hannibal walked briskly to the cemetery. The large gate that served as the entrance was in the neo-classical style. Hannibal marveled as he moved through the rows, appearing more like a series of city streets neatly paved, than an actual cemetery.

He searched for quite some time before he came to the tomb he was seeking. It was quite different from the surrounding tombs. Equally grand, but more feminine in appearance there was a statue of a woman wearing a flowing gown. She had her hand resting on a dog. He was reading a poem, La Mia Figlia, written for the deceased girl by her distraught father. As he read, he could feel eyes upon him.

_The scent…I know this person._

"Hannibal? Is that you?"

It was a very familiar voice, taking him only a moment to place.

_No…not here…not now._

He did not turn around. He stood with his hands still clasped firmly behind his back and spoke softly.

"Yes…hello, Emilia. It has been a very long time."

"It's been far too long, Hannibal. Are you here alone?"

Still he did not turn though he could hear her moving closer to him. Her scent was strong. His eyes closed.

_This is not good. This Clarice will not understand._

"Though I am currently alone, I have come to Buenos Aires with my wife, Clarice."

The woman's tone was more than familiar. It was tempting, almost taunting. "So you really are married? I find that extremely hard to believe."

Hannibal's stomach rolled. He could feel the tension rising within him as the pheromone production escalated. "Yes, I am really married and if I am being quite honest. I am not at all concerned how you find it."

She was directly behind him now and placed her hand between his shoulders drawing an index finger down the center of his spine, tracing her nail firmly into his skin. She stopped just below the small of his back. An involuntary shudder moved through him.

Again, a seductive intonation as she posed a question that was far more complex than the five simple words suggested. "How married are you…exactly?" She asked as she continually swirled her index finger into the center of his clasped hands.

Hannibal shrugged his shoulders and released his grip. He turned to face the woman, his cheeks flushed and stated absolutely emphatically. "I am happily married and inexorably committed to my wife."

Again, she closed the distance between them, this time speaking so closely to him that he could feel her breath upon his cheek. "From what I remember…it took more than one woman to keep you satisfied. I believe I was the youngest…by far. You had quite the harem back then, at least from what I've read."

Hannibal stepped back and placed his hands inside the pockets of his pants. He was growing angry and did not want to stand before her with clenched fists. "You cannot believe everything you read, Emilia."

The attractive woman was tall and stately. Her hair was now quite blonde, more so than Hannibal remembered it. He had known her in Baltimore in the late nineteen eighties. She was indeed quite young at the time, perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four though her experience was well beyond her years. She circled him several times winding herself around his body much like a cat winds itself around a person's legs. Her hands brushed over him very suggestively, making no more than a breath of exceedingly intimate contact. As she moved around him, her eyes devoured him. He was extremely agitated and drew in very slow, deep breaths attempting to rein in his autonomic responses as his body betrayed him.

"Well, if I hadn't lived it I'd agree but you can't fool me, Hannibal. Remember…I've had you many, many times. How much of it has your wife been made aware? Or have you kept that from her?"

"If you have read anything about me in the press recently you would know that my wife, Clarice, is an ex-FBI agent. As such, she knows everything there is to know about me. She knows about you, as well Emilia, though not by name…by deed."

"I'm flattered, really." She tantalized.

Hannibal shifted as she leaned into him, her back now against his as she tilted back and whispered over her shoulder.

"Did you give her specifics?"

"There is no intended flattery implied in that statement. If anything, one would think her knowledge of such things would be somewhat of an embarrassment to you. There was no need to give her specifics of our relationship, such as it was as you were extremely specific in your rather salacious descriptions. One would think a woman of your breeding would have shown some self-respect and some…well for lack of a better word, modesty. It was in extremely poor taste."

"Why? Is our lovemaking an embarrassment to you? It didn't seem to be then?"

"We didn't make love, Emilia. We fucked, albeit frequently, but it was about as far removed from love as is humanly possible."

Hannibal stepped forward slowly so that Emilia would not be leaning on him, though not fast enough to cause her to fall. "As I said…that was many years ago. I am in love with my wife...I am a different man."

"Somehow I doubt that. You may have the world fooled, but I've seen you in your natural state. I wouldn't mind seeing that…_feeling_ that again. I'll be around. Give your wife my best."

She brushed her hand over his backside as she departed and slipped something into his pocket.

Before he could process the full ramifications of the interaction his cell phone began to vibrate. His heart began to pound. He reached for it quickly and tapped on the touch screen.

"Pronto." He spoke nervously.

"Turn around you son of a bitch." Clarice snarled, her voice venomous with rage.

Hannibal spun around quickly to see Clarice standing no more than fifty feet away from him, glaring. Without another word she closed her phone, put it into her pocket and walked to him.

Defeated, he did not move. He watched her as she strode aggressively toward him. When she was not more than two feet in front of him, Hannibal opened his mouth to speak. She held a hand up, stopping him.

"Don't bother." Was all she would say.

Hannibal reached for her shoulders. She shrugged him off and reached into the pocket she saw the woman move toward. She pulled something out. It was the key to Emilia's room. She was staying at the very same hotel.

When Clarice looked into Hannibal's eyes, hers were filled with anger and hurt.

Feeling betrayed, Clarice stormed off, utterly destroyed.

Hannibal Lecter's pulse surged above eighty-five.

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	37. Chapter 37

**THE AFTERMATH**

"Clarice…Wait!" Hannibal chased her a few steps before she turned around and glared at him.

"What's her name?" She challenged.

Hannibal was absolutely crushed. He stood very still, his eyes lowered to the ground penitent for that which he did not do…for that of which he had no control. The last thing he wanted to do was to say Emilia's name. No good at all would ever come of that.

"What is that bitch's name, H? Don't make me knock on her goddamned door and ask her myself!" She demanded, her voice quivering with anguish and rage.

"Emilia…her name is Emilia Dolente." He whispered in utter defeat. "Please, my Love…let me explain…"

She interrupted him and aggressively shoved his shoulders. He made no move to defend himself.

"Don't say a goddamned word! Her hands were all over you! She touched you…and… you were…aroused… it's obvious … it's obvious you…"

Tears flowing, she choked on the words as she imagined the odious woman's hands touching her husband. Clarice could not finish the sentence and she could not face her husband. She turned and began to cry. Hannibal reached for her, but Clarice rejected his efforts and slapped his hand away.

Inconsolable, she pointed her finger in his face as if stabbing him with it.

"Don't you touch me, H. Don't you dare!"

She stormed away, leaving Hannibal standing, quite alone, quite distraught and unsure of what to do.

Clarice still had the key and now… she had a name. He thought it best to follow at a reasonable distance. Hannibal shadowed her through the streets trying to think of some way he could explain that which was unexplainable.

_It isn't the same with you, Clarice. I am not the same with you._

Clarice loved him. When they came together to physically express their love the union was metaphysical, ethereal…transcendent. Clarice was Light. Clarice was Love. Clarice was Life.

His experiences with Emilia were purely physical, and very, very primal. She enjoyed pain and at that point in his life, he enjoyed inflicting it. Emilia was Darkness. Emilia was Torment. Emilia was Fire.

_This is a relationship that Clarice will not understand._

He stayed behind to be certain she would not use that hotel key.

Clarice walked as quickly as she could manage without breaking into a run. She held her hand beneath her growing belly both for the extra support and for the comfort holding her baby provided. She was aware that Hannibal was several paces behind her but she didn't care. She wanted to get to their suite before he did. She knew he was worried about her confronting the woman. Clarice had no such intention.

_This better not be the bitch Logan was talking about, H! If it is…you'd better hide that Harpy._

Clarice reached the hotel with Hannibal scant steps behind. He didn't move to close the distance between them.

He should have.

She reached the room and very quickly removed a padded pouch from Hannibal's black leather carry-on bag. She went into the bedroom holding it against her chest as she turned to lock the door.

Hannibal heard the interior door to the suite close and listened for the spin of the lock. Upon hearing it, knowing she had locked herself in the bedroom, he opened the outer door and entered the suite.

Overwhelmed and still reeling from what had just transpired, Hannibal sat in one of the wing chairs by the window. She would know he had entered. She would know he was in the outer room. Although she was upset, Hannibal was relieved that Clarice was safe. She would probably cry herself to sleep, or so he thought.

Clarice did a cursory search for the name Emilia Dolente. There were hundreds of hits. Each and every one she clicked on linked that name to Hannibal's name. She quickly reviewed the options searching to see if she was listed on the internet site Logan told her about.

There in full color was a candid photo of Emilia hanging around Hannibal's neck, staring at him as if ready to devour. He was looking off to the side, away from the woman and appearing a bit distant. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Hannibal's neck. Hannibal's arms were not in frame. Clarice could not determine if he was holding the woman or not.

_You goddamned animal…you looked like a bitch in heat even then._

Clarice began to read page after page. It was much worse than she could have ever imagined. The woman had recounted dozens of descriptive and intensely graphic accounts of the most explicit, sadistic sexual encounters she could ever have imagined.

After a full hour of reading Clarice began to get pains in her chest. She gripped the fabric of her blouse, crushed it in her fist and twisted. She drove the material into her breastbone as if to fill the growing emptiness in her heart. Her anxiety mounted and she began to have severe trouble breathing, the emotional and physical pain combined to steal her respirations. Soon, she was doubled over and hyperventilating.

_This isn't my H…it isn't…and this woman…she's not a woman…she's a fucking succubus._

Clarice began to sob uncontrollably. Her vocalizations, though subdued in volume, were so raw and so anguished they thundered in Hannibal's eardrums like cymbals crashing against his skull.

In agony at his perceived loss, he doubled over and leaned his chest almost fully against his thighs. He wrapped his arms around his head. It was as if closing his ears to the sound would close his heart to her pain. It did not. Unable to remain seated, Hannibal stood, pacing back and forth, his methodical mind quickly searched for the catalyst that could have sent her into such despair.

_What she saw was upsetting but this… is more. This sound is death… this is mourning… Why?_

He inhaled deeply and caught just the most modest whisper of a leather scent. Suddenly making the connection, in a surge of panic and realization, Hannibal scrambled across the room. He grasped in desperation for his carry-on bag ripping it open to look inside.

_Please…no don't let it be…Gone._

Seeing the protective carrying case removed, Hannibal slumped to the ground, leaned against the couch and allowed his body to collapse. Giving in to mounting despair, the tears streamed silently down his face.

_She has the computer…she has the name…she knows…it's over...it's all over._

He feared she would never hold him again.

**REVELATION**

Clarice was forced from the bedroom several times during the night because she needed to use the bathroom. She was certain that Hannibal would have the respect and restraint to leave her to herself. Each time she stirred, Hannibal sat up hoping she would seek him out. She did not.

Out of respect to his wife, Hannibal stayed to himself and slept on the couch. He ordered a very large breakfast for Clarice, and was certain to have the kitchen include bacon. He wrote a very heartfelt note and passed it under the door. Having already showered, as soon as Hannibal slipped the note under the door he left the suite, hung the do not disturb sign, and locked the door behind him.

Clarice heard the door close and rolled over. Seeing the note on the ground she rose quickly to recover it. It was neatly folded. She opened it and read… her heart pounding.

_My Very Dearest Love,_

_You spent last evening reading things about me of an intensely personal nature. While I will not apologize to you for my actions, as they occurred more than ten years prior to our meeting, I do apologize that you have been exposed to them. I would have spared you that if it was in my power to do so. _

_I have been honest with you, Clarice. Sparing you graphic details of past sexual activities does not mean I have lied to you. I have answered every question you have ever put to me honestly._

_Please know that I did not contact Emilia and have no idea how she came to be here. I have no interest in her on any level, either personally or physically and told her as such. I was very direct in my declaration of love for you. You are my Love and my Life. I am lost without you._

_I will not intrude upon your privacy. When you hear me exit open the door and be certain to eat. Do this for the sake of the baby if not for yourself._

_Emilia will most assuredly attend the program tonight. I will return later this evening in the hopes that you will accompany me. If you decide against it, I will attend alone. _

_Clarice, please do not give this woman the satisfaction of separating us as that is her obvious intent. She is devious and I would put nothing past her. Whatever your decision, I will respect your wishes. I love you and I love our child more than I can express. _

_I am ever yours,_

_H_

Clarice folded the note, placed in on the keyboard of the lap top and closed it.

**ALONE **

Hannibal found a very small café and sat quietly at a table in the back. He ordered coffee and a light breakfast, though he had no stomach for food. He was sick over the situation with Clarice but forced himself to eat. It was quite early therefore Hannibal was confident that Emilia would not be awake. Searching his memory, she had never risen before noon. He did not want to be seen with her again. He did not want to see her again.

Hannibal spent the next several hours walking the streets of Buenos Aires. This was a far cry from the romantic getaway he had been planning. He wondered what Clarice was doing. It was time for him to return to the room as he had been outside roaming aimlessly for the bulk of the day. He was exhausted and overwhelmed. He listened at the door before opening it.

Sitting on the couch in her gown looking spectacular, Clarice was ready for the evening.

Hannibal released the breath he had been holding.

"You had better shower Hannibal. I'm sure you don't want to be late."

Hannibal closed the door quickly. "Yes, thank you Clarice. I will be expeditious."

He rushed into the bathroom, showered and dressed. Within minutes he returned to Clarice ready to leave.

"Thank you for accompanying me, Clarice. I did not want to face this alone."

Clarice picked up her purse and turned to Hannibal speaking in a very business-like manner. "Ground rules... If that bitch is at this event we will not approach her under any circumstances, understood?"

Hannibal nodded in agreement. "I understand perfectly."

Clarice continued to outline her plan. "If she has the audacity to come up to us…I will handle it any way I see fit. Understood?"

"Yes, Clarice. That is very clearly understood."

"You don't get involved and you don't try to _handle_ me, agreed?"

"Agreed, my Love."

"Do you have any questions about this before we head out?"

"Yes, Clarice…may I touch you during the course of the evening?"

"What? Why?"

"I am your escort as well as your husband, Clarice. I would like to feel as if I may reach for your hand or guide you through a door without having my hand slapped away."

"That's fine. Just as long as you understand that if that bitch comes anywhere near us, you'd better not step between us."

"Do whatever you feel you need to do to work through this, Clarice. I will not stand in your way."

"It's a good thing your ex-girlfriend enjoys pain because if she gets within ten feet of me…she's gonna be in for a world of hurt. Now give me the Harpy."

"Why do you want the blade, Clarice?"

"Because, H… you are my husband and the father of my child…she has no claim on you and whatever part of that bitch's body touches you from this point on…I'm going to keep."

Hannibal smiled picking up on the smallest hint of forgiveness. _She called me H._

He slipped the knife from his pocket, to her hand.

Hannibal smiled.

_That's my girl._

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	38. Chapter 38

**TEATRO COLON: THE PERFORMANCE**

Hannibal and Clarice's limo pulled into the Plaza Lavalle and up to the Teatro Colon. Clarice in her flowing Yves Saint Laurent gown took Hannibal's hand and stepped elegantly from the car onto the curb.

She looked up, awestruck at the spectacular French renaissance building and gently grasped Hannibal's arm. Touched by the gesture, he pulled her close.

"Thank you for attending, my Love…When I see the world through your eyes, it is as if seeing everything for the first time." He kissed her hand and held it. She wrapped her arm around his back as they walked through the foyer.

"Thank you for arranging this H. I'm sorry about last night. We're going to have to talk about it."

"There is no need for you to apologize, Clarice. We can discuss it when we get home. Let us enjoy this together, agreed."

Clarice hugged his arm tightly. "Okay, H…Agreed."

Clarice marveled at the grandeur of the building with its stairways of marble highly polished and pristine. Hannibal directed her attention to the opulent magnificence of the stained glass ceiling opening above them like a sparkling glass umbrella.

Hannibal, ever the mentor, pointed out the lighted Corinthian columns and described the various other architectural elements. As they entered the massive theatre itself, an usher escorted them to their private box on the second tier directly beside the stage. Hannibal marveled at his surroundings. More than the opera house, he marveled at the beauty sitting beside him whom he believed, only hours earlier he had lost forever.

Sitting in a private box in a beautiful opera house with his stunning wife by his side, Hannibal was Pride.

Clarice reached into her purse and pulled out a lovely pair of opera glasses Hannibal had given her before the flight to Buenos Aires. She scanned the seats and the boxes for Emilia and quickly spotted her on the third level of the five balcony levels available. She was seated one level up and diagonally across from them.

_Okay, Bitch…Enjoy the view!_

Clarice was thankful Hannibal wished to be on the side of the stage where he would have a clear view of the pianist's hands at the keyboard.

"She's on the other side, H." Clarice whispered.

"I don't care in the least where she is. That woman has been nothing but trouble since the unfortunate day I met her. After this event, I hope to never see her again."

Clarice thought back to the interview she read and remembered what irritated this woman.

_He never kissed her, as much as she begged him to…that was the only thing she complained about._

Clarice watched carefully. She could see clearly that Emilia was scanning the audience for Hannibal. She was in a large box that seated several couples, though Emilia appeared to be without escort.

The box Clarice shared with Hannibal was much more private with just the two of them. Suddenly, Clarice could see through her glasses that the horrific woman had indeed spotted them and was indeed now watching very carefully. Clarice lowered the glasses and turned toward her husband.

"This is the one time I'm really glad for your ostentation, H." She commented as she rested her hand on his chest.

Hannibal's heart began to race at the sensitive nature of the contact. After the events of yesterday afternoon and last night, he hadn't expected the level of intimacy implied by the gesture this soon. Clarice often did things that surprised him. It was in her nature to be unpredictable…at least unpredictable to Hannibal. In his eyes, it was her most attractive feature. Quickly he regrouped attempting to appear as comfortable as possible.

"What's that, my Love?" He was genuinely curious as to what she was referring.

"I'm glad we have this space to ourselves, H. Believe me…we're gonna _need _the privacy."

Hannibal was shocked at the implication of her tone but didn't let on to her what he was thinking. The suggestive nature of her comment seemed out of context for their surroundings, therefore he dismissed it out of turn.

She caressed his face with the back of her hand, continually stroking his cheek. He closed his eyes and turned toward the contact, unsure of what to do.

_What is she doing?_

He whispered his confusion.

"Clarice…"

She slipped her hand along his cheek and held his face, lifting his chin slightly.

"Open your eyes, H. I want to see you."

Hannibal opened his eyes, utterly confounded. Only Clarice had the ability to keep him this off-balance.

She touched her lips to his.

His breath caught in his throat. "Clarice…"

"No, H…Don't say anything."

She kissed him again, and very slowly, very obviously traced her tongue across his mouth and bit his lower lip, slowly pulling it forward. When she released it, she stood. Hannibal's mouth was agape as Clarice left her chair and moved to join him.

Hannibal's eyes widened as he opened his arms and pulled her onto his lap. Clarice slowly draped herself across his body and delicately encircled his neck. Comfortable in his embrace, she leaned back and relaxed into his body, just as she did when he carried her from Verger's pen.

_Her presence is a gift. _

Hannibal lowered his head and kissed her gently. She had read far too many accounts of his aggression the night previous and he would be careful not to flush the memories from her subconscious.

As the minutes passed, their passions built and the kissing became much more ardent each spouse delving with their lips and tongues. Hannibal's hands moved over her body, searching. She writhed seductively to his touch. Their lips did not part until the lights flickered, signaling the beginning of the performance.

Clarice stood and smoothed her dress. Hannibal shifted in his seat, uncomfortable that he could not find relief in such a public place. He reached for her and held her hand.

Clarice picked up the opera glasses with her free hand and surreptitiously scanned Emilia's section.

She was not surprised to see that Emilia was focused very clearly on them with a small pair of binoculars, though not as fashionable as the pair Hannibal had purchased. Clarice, not breaking eye contact, reached for her husband and slipped her hand from his knee, trailing her hand along the inside of his thigh.

Hannibal's eyes shifted but other than that, remained perfectly still.

Clarice continued to reach very suggestively up his leg, pausing to grip the muscles of his inner thigh.

"Clarice?" Hannibal sought some confirmation of her intentions.

"Shhhh." Was her only response.

Hannibal slowed his breathing and relaxed his posture just slightly as his wife's gentle hand brushed across his hip to his groin.

Still watching Emilia, Clarice smiled as she massaged him intimately.

Hannibal's respirations deepened as he reached to his core attempting to control his response. He turned to her, more curious than shocked. The box they were seated in was fully enclosed and as such was extremely private. His blood pressure pulsing, again, he questioned.

"Clarice?" Wanting her to continue though conversely terrified she might.

"Shut up and go with it, H. The only person that can see us is the only person I want to see us."

Not what he wanted to hear. "She is watching as we speak?"

"Oh, yeah H…She sure as hell is! She's burning a hole through her spyglasses as we speak."

Hannibal leaned back and closed his eyes smiling slyly as he processed the situation. He finally understood what was happening and was actually quite amused by it.

"Are you… marking your… territory, Clarice?" He asked between stressed respirations.

She was proudly deliberate in her declaration. "You bet your sweet ass I am, H!"

"This is… even better… than… 'I love you, H.' "

Clarice laughed at his response. "I love you, H."

"I love… you as… well… Clarice."

Again, the lights flickered to signal the patrons to take their seats. As the lights lowered, Clarice lowered the glasses and kissed Hannibal very passionately for a final time before the concert began.

_Take that you Bitch!_

As the performer came out and the music began, Clarice sat back in the crimson and golden chair and put the opera glasses back in her purse. She was quite satisfied with herself and was looking forward to the remainder of the evening.

Hannibal sat upright, straightened his jacket and attempted to compose himself. He leaned over and whispered to his wife.

"You are a constant surprise to me, Clarice. I could have never guessed my life would include one as special as you. After _your_ performance, our exit should prove to be extremely interesting."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	39. Chapter 39

**BETWEEN IRON AND SILVER**

Hannibal sat quietly, his hands gripping the arms of the richly upholstered chair until his knuckles appeared blended reds and yellows pulsing from the strain of his grasp. He did not move as the other audience members stood to leave. He sat unnaturally still, his external calm, as was his nature, masked the fury of thoughts churning within. Clarice slipped from her seat quickly, the fabric of her elegant gown swooshing with the speed of her movement. She quietly stood behind Hannibal's chair with her hand resting on his shoulder.

_Hmmmm…Stalling tactics H? Not likely._

Clarice fully understood that Hannibal did not want to run into Emilia. Hannibal's problem being he fully understood Clarice did.

The cautious husband attempted to change the course his strong willed wife. She had truculently set her feet on this tumultuous path. Normally, Hannibal thrived on chaos. He lived to see the upheaval and unpredictable nature of it. The problem with this kind of chaos was the fact that his wife, normally extremely unpredictable, in this instance extremely _was_. She was a warrior. She would stand toe to toe and she would fight.

His legs were crossed and his hands clasped in front of him, he tapped his tented index fingers pensively against his lips.

_Can I turn you from this Clarice?_

"Perhaps we should wait until the majority of the patrons clear the building, Clarice. The car will wait for us. It would be no trouble. In fact, it may actually serve us well to avoid this confrontation altogether."

Clarice stared blankly at him. She understood his want to avoid the interaction. She just didn't care. She would face this woman and she would draw a line in the sand. Clarice hoped this woman was foolish enough to cross that line so that she could bury her under it.

Hannibal understood her intention as soon as their eyes met and it troubled him greatly. He questioned, already knowing the answer. "And your mind is quite set? I cannot dissuade you from this course of action, my Love?"

"Not in a thousand years." She stated firmly.

Hannibal searched her eyes to see whether there was hidden meaning in the use of this particular phrase. This time there would be no contradictory tear tracking along her cheek. This time she _meant _it.

"Ah, yes…very amusing, Clarice." He uncrossed his legs and placed his palms on his knees, leaning forward as if to stand though not.

Emilia was not a mystery to Hannibal. Not a mystery the way that Clarice was and always would be. Not bound by emotion or feelings, Emilia was extremely predictable. Hannibal understood the danger Emilia presented to his new found happiness. There was only one common thread that linked the two women.

The one thing that Emilia had in common with Clarice was singular vision. When her mind was set on something, she pursued it relentlessly. He was not certain exactly what Emilia's motivations were but it was obvious she was extremely invested in that pursuit and that pursuit, at least on some level, included his participation. This made Emilia more dangerous to Hannibal and Clarice than Stuart Miggs had been. Stuart was desperate for love. That word was not among Emilia's vocabulary.

Clarice stood silently next to him, her mind very obviously made up. She nudged his shoulder urging him to stand. "Let's go, H…it's time to go face the music."

Hannibal reluctantly pushed his palms against his knees and slowly rose from the chair. He held the curtain aside allowing Clarice to exit the box. The pair walked through the theatre and made their way to the foyer, Hannibal's expression appeared more as if he were walking to the gallows.

Clarice's steps were purposeful. Hannibal's agile and ready as he continually scanned the space using all of his senses. He believed his sense of smell would be the most reliable as it gave him a three hundred-sixty degree span where his visual periphery, though far more expansive than most, had obvious blind spots. He searched for evidence of her absence or presence, quickly picking up on the former.

That keen sense of smell told him he was, at least temporarily in the clear.

_She has already passed this area…she is not near. Please let her be gone from this place. _

Clarice noticed his diligence. "You look like a deer caught in the headlights, H. She's just a woman. You act like she's a threat to us."

Hannibal's expression was quite sober. He was not pleased that this relationship had come under such scrutiny and did not want to discuss this woman with his wife.

"Clarice, it would be best if we returned to our suite and did not interact with her on any level. She is a devious, exceedingly dangerous individual and her motivations for being here are suspect."

Clarice stopped for a moment and turned to her husband. "Are you afraid of this person, H? 'Cuz it sounds like you're scared shitless of her."

"Scatological references aside, I am not afraid of her. I am pragmatic. You are pregnant Clarice and you are very emotional. It would not be difficult to draw you into a conflict. Emilia is quite manipulative. I would not have her create a situation that would be harmful to you or to our unborn child."

Hannibal spotted their car, approached and opened the door for Clarice, allowing her to take a seat. He moved quickly to the opposite side of the vehicle. The driver opened the door and held it.

Just as Hannibal stepped into the car, he caught the scent of her. His eyes flashed wild as he took his seat beside his wife.

Hannibal could feel his strangled heart as if it had risen from his ribs and squeezed itself up to the back of his throat, choking the breath from him. The course he could not correct had been set into motion. There was no way to avoid the confrontation.

"What's going on, H?" Clarice asked, seeing the burning in his eyes.

"She is near…I caught the scent of her on the breeze as I entered the car."

Not wanting to announce Emilia's arrival, Hannibal wanted to take back the words as soon as they escaped his mouth. He was caught totally off guard when he saw the rising conflagration in His wife's eyes.

Clarice was not merely angry at Hannibal's pronouncement; she was fully enraged by it. The edge to her voice as she responded was unmistakably laced with venom as she spat forth her response.

"You remember her _scent!_

Hannibal wheeled his head around shocked at the response.

"Pardon me?" Suddenly, it dawned on him that Clarice believed he was making a sexual reference.

"_No_, Clarice, not the scent of her _sex_…the scent of her perfume. It is _specific_ to her. She has it custom made in London and shipped to her several times a year. It is unchanged and quite unmistakable."

As if on cue, the woman appeared from the darkness, shade-like and shifting like ribbons of smoke on the night breeze. She approached the limo and moved to open the car door but the driver boxed her out and closed it. He then stepped in front of the handle, effectively blocking Emilia's access. Hannibal had already instructed the driver, prior to their arrival at the Opera House, that they not be disturbed.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. My party has entered the vehicle and is ready for transport."

Emilia stood beside the door, obviously irritated not to be able to access Hannibal. "I am a very close friend of Doctor Lecter, a lover actually, and I was hoping to speak to him."

The driver held up a hand of apology. "That won't be possible. The Doctor and his _wife_ can be reached at _their _hotel. If you are indeed a close friend and would like to speak to either of them and I suggest that you contact them there. If you will please excuse me, I am running late."

The driver locked the exterior doors by remote and entered the car, leaving Emilia standing there. He turned the ignition.

Clarice remembered Hannibal's letter to her, when she was battling the vultures of Buzzard's Bay. She was stability, even it anger.

'_The most stable elements, Clarice appear in the middle of the periodic table, roughly between iron and silver. Between iron and silver. I think that is appropriate for you.'_

That letter was a call to arms. A hand of help extended when no one else dared help. Even at the possible cost of his freedom, he reached out to her, telling her she was a warrior…telling her to fight back. She wanted to fight for him now. Clarice watched. Emilia's next actions would determine hers.

_If she walks away…I will too…if not…_

Emilia tapped on the darkened glass and winked diabolically at Hannibal. Although she couldn't see him through the deeply tinted privacy glass, she had from a distance and noted which side of the vehicle he had entered.

Clarice was incensed. "That's it…I'm going to kill that Bitch."

Clarice engaged the handle of the door and kicked it open aggressively.

Hannibal reached across and grabbed her arm. "Clarice…No."

She wrenched it from his grip and held a hand up in warning. "H, I told you _not_ to get involved."

The driver shifted his attention to Hannibal, his eyes questioning whether or not to intercept the action.

Knowing it would be of no use, Hannibal shook his head.

"Thank you for your diligence, there is no need to intercede. Once my wife has committed to a course of action, she must see it through."

Hannibal turned to Clarice. "Mind you are careful, my Love. Tap on the glass if you have need of me. Until then, as promised, I will remain within."

Clarice exited the car and called to Emilia over the roofline of the vehicle.

"Hey, Emilia…Can I _help _you with something?" Clarice asked making no attempt to mask her jealousy or her anger.

"There is nothing I want from you." Emilia answered revealing no emotion in her voice or facial expression whatever.

Clarice noted as the woman spoke there was little life in her eyes. They were a light brown surrounded by flecks of amber giving them an almost golden color, though curiously devoid of shine. At the center, the pupils were cavernous and absent of any light. There was no spark of life at all within them.

Fearlessly, Clarice challenged the woman.

"It would seem you aren't being honest with that statement. You obviously want _something_ from me. Something very _precious_ to me…You _want _my _husband_."

Emilia smiled a very wicked and sadistic grin. "I've already _had_ your _husband_."

Clarice could feel her blood boiling but made every effort not to appear affected by the statement.

"You had him a _very_ long time ago. So have a lot of women. I am more than aware that my husband is a very virile man and took many partners prior to our vows. It is only fair to acknowledge that it doesn't concern me who or in your case _what_ he fucked in the past as long as I am the only one he makes love to in the future."

"Yes it is true… we did do just that. We did _fuck_ and we did _quite_ often. You should know that sexually…your husband is an _animal_. You can have his love. I want his _lust_."

Emilia released this provocative pronouncement in a voice so calm that the sound twisted itself into Clarice's inner ear, searing like poison.

Although she could feel the burn of bile as the gorge rose in her throat, externally Clarice remained unflappable. "He is much older now. His tastes have changed."

Emilia pressed her body against the glass of the limo, writhing on it as if leaning against Hannibal himself. "An old lion is still a lion. You may think he is tame because you hold the key to his cage but he is wild nonetheless. You will not satisfy him for long."

Clarice reached for the Harpy and slapped it on the roof of the limo in plain sight.

Emilia looked at it and licked her lips. "Ah, he still has the Harpy! We are old friends. You take that out to scare me, but it excites me. In Hannibal's hands…it is heaven."

Clarice glared at the woman. She wanted to take the hook of the Harpy and pierce the woman's black heart with it, if in fact the organ was even present in this creature.

Clarice very slowly opened the knife, fully extended and locked the blade.

"I didn't remove the Harpy to frighten you. I removed the Harpy to illustrate that I don't hold the key to the Lion's cage. I hold the key to the Lion's heart and I control the Lion's claw."

Clarice used the point of the blade to tap on the window. Hannibal quickly exited the car and took his place beside his wife. He encircled her waist with his arms and pulled her close against his body.

"You called for me my Love?" He did not look at Emilia.

Knowing there was a part of Hannibal this woman desired, in fact begged for but had been denied, Clarice taunted. "Yes, H…I wanted a kiss."

Hannibal took her face very gently in his hands and kissed her passionately, making no effort to suppress his desire. As he released her lips, he pressed his mouth against her throat and sucked on the skin, growling his want for her. She was breathless when he released her.

"Did you want anything aside from that kiss, my Love?"

"Yes, H…when we get back to the hotel… but we will need privacy for that."

She handed him the Harpy. He took it, folded it and gave it back to his wife.

"For safe keeping… Clarice."

"Of course, H." Clarice turned her attention to Emilia. "I hope you can recount those memories and call on them when you are alone because as much as you want him…you will never, ever have him again."

"We shall see. I am a patient woman and your husband has interests that I am sure do not interest you. When your whelp starts to scream…he will grow bored of playing house."

At the moment she made that comment referring to his child, Hannibal's eyes redirected to Emilia. His irises burned from anger, the glowing orbs simmering and molten.

"Do not discuss my child, Emilia. Or I will take great offense."

Emilia blew Hannibal a kiss. "We will see each other soon, Hannibal." She then turned to Clarice. "Enjoy him while you can. Your Lion's got the scent again. Soon…nothing you can say or do will keep him from me."

Clarice did not flinch. "He loves me and I love him. Nothing _you_ can say or do will _ever _change that. _Nothing _you can do will make him leave."

Clarice turned to Hannibal. "It's time to go home, H."

Hannibal was still absolutely fixated on Emilia, his unblinking anger evident. His voice to his wife was soft and gentle diametrically opposed to the raging conflagration burning within him.

"After you, my Love…a gentleman never enters a car before his Lady."

Clarice looked at him.

If on the periodic table she fell between Iron and Silver, Hannibal was on the fringes. He was quick, he was changing…he was volatile. He was Mercury. She understood it could be dangerous to leave him in this situation but she also understood that as a father, he would not let the insult to his child be ignored. He let his wife have her say but now _he_ needed to say something… to issue a warning of his own.

She was certain of his intention therefore she entered the car, but listened carefully. His warning would carry far more weight than hers could ever have.

Hannibal leaned across the hood of the car. His sultry voice lost the smooth, melodic tone that nightly whispered his love to Clarice as she drifted to sleep. It now took on the threatening metallic hiss from the basement in Baltimore.

"If you continue this game of yours I will not react well, Emilia. You will leave my wife and my child out of our past. You are not a part of my future. You will not threaten my family. I will not allow it. If you continue on this path it will be at your own peril. Know that I will not relent. I will show no mercy."

Clarice imagined the flashing sparks his tone ignited, his rasp like steel that bursts fire forth as it explodes across flint. His anger was volcanic. Hannibal was unstable, unpredictable and elemental. His eyes spun in flaming pinwheels of red as if flashing the fury of his soul.

Emilia's response was curious. "Have I _ever_ asked you for mercy?"

This woman threatened his marriage. She had almost cost him his wife's respect. Whether it was true or not, he felt lesser in her eyes and if Clarice were a lesser woman, it might have cost him everything. He would not let this come to pass.

"No, you never had to ask for mercy because you were in my care and I had never wished for your death before. Though you should know_… I do now._ You should also know that I have taken lives for far less reason than this and though I have never taken the life of a female… in your case, I would not hesitate to make an exception. If I perceive that my family is in jeopardy, I will act swiftly. My wife may hold my Harpy but if you try to come between us…she _will_ place it in my hand."

"You don't frighten me Hannibal. I welcome your anger. It excites me…you excite me. You extracted from me screams of pain and tears of pleasure. I'm sure my cries haunt your dreams."

"Know the only woman that has ever haunted my dreams is the woman I hold in my arms as I sleep every night. I ignored your cries of pain in the past because it brought _you_ pleasure. The next time I ignore those cries, I want you to know that it will bring _me_ great pleasure. Know, too that it will bring _you_ death."

Hannibal lowered himself into the car without lowering his eyes. Without a word passing between them Clarice reached for her husband and held him.

Like ribbons of smoke twisting on the night air, Emilia was enveloped again in the shade of night.

She would appear again far too soon.

**Until the next chapter,**

**LH**


	40. Chapter 40

**THE EXPLANATION**

Hannibal leaned his back against the door of the car and turned his body toward the seat. He did this quite strategically so as he held Clarice in his arms she would lean against him and he would feel the length of her body against his. The entire ride back to their hotel they did not speak.

Hannibal massaged Clarice's neck and shoulders his body tingling at the soft hum of comfort she released with the pressure of his grip. She craned her neck and turned her face up to her husband, searching for his lips. Hannibal smoothed a hand across her throat and surreptitiously searched for her pulse. He positioned a finger over it at the precise moment he lowered his face toward hers. It pleased him to feel the beating of it as they kissed, her increase matching his.

When the limo pulled in front of the hotel, the dutiful husband reluctantly released his wife and exited first, certain to be extremely generous when tipping the driver. The man had seen and heard enough. They would need his services again on Monday morning for their trip to the airport. By the expression on the man's face when he received the gratuity, come Monday morning their driver would be punctual and pleasant.

With each step Clarice took from the car to the room, she thought less of holding Hannibal and more of Emilia. By the time the pair reached the door to their room, her temper which moments earlier had just begun to simmer was now rolling up to a full boil.

They did not speak until they entered their suite. As soon as the door to the room closed, the calm of the ride was fully forgotten and Clarice exploded, not at Hannibal but at the situation. He understood her frustration and let her vent her emotions without the intrusion of his feelings to color her own.

"Oh my God… H! How the hell did you ever get involved with her? She's so revolting I feel like I need a goddamned tetanus shot. No, I take that back. Considering the high likelihood that a woman that promiscuous probably has an STD I should get some penicillin as well."

Hannibal sat on the couch that had been his bed the night previous before dropping his head low between his shoulders. His unusually stooped carriage reflected his exhaustion and his utter frustration having to deal with this long forgotten portion of his past. He took a long pause before responding to his wife.

_She finds Emilia to be repulsive, thus by association on some level, she is now equally repulsed by me._

"Is that a rhetorical question, Clarice or does it _actually _require an answer on my part?"

Clarice stopped her tirade and after checking her temper, very seriously considered his query.

_Do I really need this information or do I want it?_

She turned to Hannibal, her expression quizzical. "You know…I'm not sure about that. I'm going to think this over while I change. Do you mind if I shower first or are you in a hurry to change your clothing?"

"No, I am perfectly comfortable. Please be my guest."

Normally, Hannibal would ask Clarice if he could join her in the shower. He did not feel it appropriate tonight.

_Better she have time to clear her thoughts and decide what information, if any she is seeking._

Clarice went into the bathroom and with no small level of frustration, spun the faucets releasing the hot water tap almost to capacity. She felt dirty even speaking to that abhorrent woman and couldn't imagine that Hannibal had soiled himself by touching her.

_Jesus, H…it isn't as if you couldn't do better! She doesn't even seem your type. So…servile…so in need of male domination…so goddamned stupid! She's hardly the challenge I would expect you to seek._

Clarice didn't even know what about Emilia disgusted her so much. It wasn't as if her hygiene was suspect and she was actually quite attractive. The woman's pathetically hypersexual demeanor was so reprehensible that Clarice dialed the faucet until clouds of steam fogged the room. She stepped into the shower and flinched at the heat, the burning sting of it felt as if it would vaporize her skin. Fully in the fourth month of her pregnancy she was beginning to show and kept her back to the heat so as not to hurt the baby.

She remained in the shower much longer than was her custom, scrubbing her quickly reddened skin vigorously as if removal of the first layer of dermis would remove this woman from her life.

When she emerged, her wet auburn hair falling across her deep terrycloth robe and nothing underneath, Clarice returned to her husband and sat on the couch beside him. She curled her legs beneath her and enjoyed the silence of his company.

_This is the calm before the storm. Do I really want to do this?_

A satisfied smile crossed her face as she noticed Hannibal's chest rise and his nostrils flare as he gathered in her scent. She watched her husband's expression and other than that one deep inhalation showing his physical interest, a natural gesture from him that spoke volumes to her; he was a blank canvas. There was one thing she was certain of. He loved her. She knew that.

_What is going on in that brilliant mind?_

"What are you thinking about, H?"

Hannibal's previously relaxed posture instantly self- corrected. He was now sitting bolt upright and moving very little. His mind tumbled as it calculated various exchanges, attempting to decide what his next statement should be.

"What does it matter what I am thinking? It matters only what you are thinking, Clarice."

The only movement he made was a slight trilling of the thumb and forefinger of his right hand tapping absentmindedly against his thigh. His face remained calm and wholly impassive. He spoke in near monotone without his usually playful, almost taunting inflection. He continued to answer her question.

"Though if it is important for you to know, I am trying to determine how to adequately explain to you that which I am not certain you are capable of understanding, such is your goodness."

Clarice wasn't entirely certain she wanted any further details. What she had already read upset her far too much. This wasn't the way she pictured her husband. The man she read about online was savage, merciless and raw. She wondered if knowing his motivations would upset her more or less than the deeds themselves.

"If I question you about this, you'll obviously answer honestly." She stated more than she asked, as she already knew the answer.

He released every bit of wind in his lungs through one painfully protracted sigh.

_So it begins._

Abruptly, the trilling stopped. Hannibal flattened his palms on his thighs and leaned back slightly, his arms extending but hands remaining in place. Clarice thought he looked like a lion leaning back in a predatory stance as if readying an attack. Hannibal Lecter was far more terrifying when he became absolutely still. His answer to his wife was plain.

"I have told you many times before, Clarice… I will never deny you my honesty. I will answer the questions put to me even if the truth of that answer comes at great personal cost to me."

Clarice was wary of this response. "Why do you believe I'm trying to hurt you or that this will _cost_ you something? I don't want to hurt you. I want to _understand_ you."

Hannibal stared forward, not in the direction of Clarice but somewhere off in space as his limitless mind created within it a mighty brush that painted great masses of color across expanses of infinite darkness.

"I believe it my Love because already, you have unwittingly harmed me and this has cost me no small measure of your respect. You look at me differently. Mere moments ago you held me and kissed me as you did on our wedding night. As we entered this suite, and your mind shifted, the first statement you made is evidence of that cost. I am tremendously saddened by that fact. Still, I owe you honesty. If you ask…I will answer."

Clarice bit her lower lip and set her jaw. "Yeah, H…I know…I'm sorry but I need to hear this from you. The fact that I don't recognize you at all in this scares me a little."

He did not turn his face toward hers, still choosing to remain in the alternate reality of shapes and colors he was concurrently creating within his brilliant mind.

"Very well, Clarice. Ask your questions if you feel you must."

There was a pulse point at his temple that had begun firing rapidly. Clarice could see this discomfort and believed it to be a reflection of suffering. She felt tremendous love and empathy for him.

_He's so brave, so much courage. _

She reached out and traced a loving finger across his temple as if brushing his hair back from his forehead would relieve some of pressure pulsing there.

"H…I want to know why?"

_Reds…deep alizarin crimson, like blood pooling and clotting. Blues approaching violet, deep and limitless as the cold depths of the galaxy. Add a hint of swirling ochre, burning hot like the sun…_

"The _why_ of it all may not make sense to you, Clarice. Emilia was an experiment and one that I am not proud of. I was seeking to link some emotion to the sexual experience, to feel _something…anything _aside from the physical release. I did not believe I would ever find a woman to whom I was willing to offer my love…one that was in turn willing to accept my love. If I could not find love in the experience, the opposite seemed plausible. Therefore, in Emilia, I found a woman not seeking my love and more than willing to accept my hate."

_Vermilion and green ebbing and flowing like vast fields undulating along a distant horizon. _

"I don't want details about the sex, H. That happened long before us…it's none of my business. But…did you ever tell her you loved her? Did you ever love her?"

Hannibal did not flinch. His response was clear and direct.

"I did not tell that woman or any other woman that I was in love or loved them, nor _have_ I ever loved any other woman. I absolutely and unreservedly have only loved you, Clarice. What I shared with Emilia was very physical and aggressive. There was nothing of love in it at all. If she thought she had found love somewhere in that carnal brutality that is no concern of mine."

_Deep whirling clouds of umber and sienna that twist and turn on the horizon like plumes of smoke._

Clarice took a deep breath as if the strained inhalation could in some way gather to her a portion of Hannibal's courage, some small measure of his inner strength. She would pose now, the question she most wanted to ask and the answer she least wanted to hear.

"When you had sex with her, I don't want any details… was…was it…better for you?"

At the completion of the question with Clarice's wind strangled in the back of her throat in breathless anticipation approaching utter terror as she waited for the answer.

"Please continue your thought my Love. Better for me than what? Be specific please."

_Onyx…deep black…reflecting into the abyss…_

"Was it better for you with her than it is with me? There were things I read that you did with her…things that…I don't do that we don't…do you...need me to…"

She didn't finish the sentence. She couldn't bring herself to form the words. She didn't want the answers anymore. Her eyes burned as they welled.

_The appearance of tears...she is crying._

Hannibal snapped quickly back from the protected solitude he had placed himself within. His mind was now fully with Clarice as he tenderly touched the pad of his index finger to her cheek lifting the tear from her skin just as it spilled over her eyelid.

"Clarice…I beg you… do not do this to yourself."

Hannibal helplessly watched his wife as she struggled with what had obviously been long held feelings of inadequacy. He had been so concerned that he was somehow diminished in her eyes he had not considered the same may be true of her. It cost him more to find out that _she _believed she was diminished in _his_ eyes as well.

"She is…what I'm not." Clarice burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands as she hid within the folds of her robe. "I'm not…"

Hannibal immediately recognized the situation, assessed his response and mentally pursued Clarice. He challenged her, leaning in and physically invading her space as his words penetrated and probed seeking to clarify her thought.

"You are not _what?_ Clarice, please this question is quite important so make every effort to answer honestly. You believe that she is something you are not? What would that _something _be? What is missing in you that is present in her? Or rather…might it be there is something present in you that is absent in Emilia. Consider the two and decide."

Clarice raised her face from her hands just long enough to get her point across.

"She's so…sexual. I'm not. I'm just not."

"You are correct, Clarice...she is sexual. You are not."

Clarice's eyes widened. She could not believe her ears.

_I'm pouring out my soul to him and he's mocking me!_

As she reached her hands for the fabric to again cover her face, Hannibal slipped to his knees in front of her opening her legs to bring his body more closely against her. He pressed against her and gripped her wrists. He opened her arms wide, denying her want to bury her face and sob.

"Look at me... Look at me and do not turn from this. Do not hide from yourself. You have already made the proper distinction, Clarice. You have stated it quite eloquently but did not realize the significance of your own statement. She is _sexual_. You are _not._ I agree_ fully_ with that. Do you understand what it is _exactly_ that I am agreeing_ to_? Do you understand the distinction? Is the thing that is lacking within you or within Emilia? Who is lacking?"

"I am…I don't…I'm not…"

"Do not confuse her behavior with femininity or being sexually appealing. You have both traits in abundance. She does not. She _is_ sexual…the way any animal _in estrus_ is sexual. She is driven by that need and that need alone much like a dog in heat would be. That is the difference between you. She is sexual and in _that_ context, you are not."

"I'm lacking…"

"No…Do you remember your Merriam-Webster, Clarice? It would define sexual as being of, relating to or associated with sex. Notice the word love is not in that definition just as it is not in Emilia. Sex for you is an expression of love. Therefore you have a trait that _she_ is lacking. She _has_ no love, not even love for herself. That connection between sex and love is a distinction found in humans and not found among lesser animals. Emilia is a lesser animal. I am ashamed to say to you that utilizing that definition, at that point in my life…before you…in that context, I was a lesser animal as well. In your arms…I am no longer."

Hannibal reached for his wife and held her, kissing the top of her head as she sobbed against his chest. His heart ached for her.

"Clarice there has never been anyone who could ever match you in my arms or in my eyes. I have had many partners but I have had only one Lover…You. There is _nothing_ you lack. There is nothing more you need do for me. With _you_ I am finally complete."

"But with her you were so…aggressive. Maybe I'm not enough for you."

"Sex for me is different now. It is a sharing. It was never that for me before you. I am more satisfied now than I have ever been at any point in my life. I am in awe of your power over me and am humbled before you. You are Perfection Clarice. In my heart and in my soul, you have no equal."

Clarice looked up at him, her eyes swollen and plaintive. "What if she's right about the baby, H? You've never lived with a family. Not since you were almost too young to remember. What if you hate it? What if you get bored and resent us…resent me?"

Hannibal was hurt by her statement. "Clarice, I am a man. I have a wife. I am about to have a child. Why do you believe that I am some sort of creature that cannot understand that concept? That I cannot love that which I am responsible for creating? I feel as though you are seeing the mask again and forgetting there is a man holding you. A man that loves you and a man that is fully content to do nothing but hold you for the rest of his life."

"What if she keeps coming back? What if she won't leave us alone?"

"Then, Clarice I fear I may be unable to keep my promise to you."

"What promise do you mean, H?"

"If she is unrelenting know that _I_ will be relentless. I will hunt her down and I will kill her. I will not allow this creature to destroy that which has taken me a lifetime to attain."

"No, H. We'll stay away from her. I want to go back to the States to have the baby. I want to be with friends for this. Does that upset you? Would you allow it?"

"I don't want to live in the duplex, Clarice. I would want more privacy than that. I would move to the states if you agreed to set up house in Baltimore. The home I once occupied came for sale last year and I was able to purchase it back at quite a bargain. Some people are squeamish living in a home that had once been a crime scene. That property is available for our use if that is agreeable to you."

"I would feel much better, H."

"Then it is decided. I will shower, we will have a bite to eat and we can plan this further."

"Do you want me to call room service?" Clarice asked, looking through the menu.

"If you do, I am feeling rather carnivorous. Steak if they have a good cut, rare."

"Do you want it rare or bleeding?" She teased.

"Tell them to walk a cow past and I'll slice a piece off myself." He countered.

"Bloody it is."

Hannibal went to take his shower. Clarice called room service and ordered the food specifying that her husband wanted his meat so rare the center of it should be almost cold to the touch.

Within minutes, Hannibal returned, wearing a plush robe, his hair slicked back from this forehead sleek and shining much like the first time she saw him.

"Have you ordered the food, my Love?"

"Yes, it should be here soon. They said the kitchen was quiet."

"Did you make a healthy choice, for the baby?"

"Yes, I told them I wanted something healthy but nothing with gills! Chicken was what they had so chicken it is. H, I swear with all the poultry I've been eating, I'm gonna start clucking before this baby is born."

There was a knock on the door. Hannibal answered the door and with a broad sweeping gesture of his arm, directed that the food to be set up in front of the window next to the wing chairs.

The young and overly hormonal waiter delivering the meals smiled widely at Clarice, obviously noting her state of undress. As he set the food out, his salacious eyes looked her up and down making no secret of his thoughts and no apology for doing so.

Hannibal noticed the implied intention of the junior gigolo and was less than pleased. It was obvious that this young man had probably gotten many provocative invitations by showing this level of interest. He probably believed that such a late night food delivery, greeted by two partially clothed guests might include an invitation to something more. Normally Hannibal might find this situation to be amusing. Tonight, he was hungry, tired and was most assuredly not amused. He sternly voiced his displeasure, the assertive timber boomed forth and echoed in the room.

"Mind that your eyes remain on me, young man and not on the body of my lovely wife. While I am certain your services may prove useful to other couples, I assure you I do not play well with others and am more than capable of enjoying the pleasures of my spouse alone tonight."

"Yes sir…no offense meant. Sir…your wife…she is lovely."

"Yes she is and we both thank you for your compliment."

He escorted the young man to the door.

When Hannibal closed the door, Clarice paused a moment to be certain the waiter had moved far enough away from the door so as not to overhear their conversation. She began to laugh uncontrollably.

"That was _interesting._"

"There must be some fairly flaccid guests patronizing this establishment. It would seem the young man has quite the racket. Please join me my Love." He was eerily calm as he held the chair for her.

Clarice stood nervously smoothing her hands against the comfort of the soft robe. He pushed her chair in, placed a napkin in her lap and uncovered her meal. Before taking his seat, he kissed her cheek.

"Would you like to return to the States before or after Thanksgiving?"

Clarice's eyes lit up. "That's this Thursday do you think we can get the new house set up in time?"

"Yes of course. The kitchen is fully appointed. A housekeeper maintains the home on a weekly basis. I can phone ahead and have it prepared. She need only place fresh linens on the bed. I can arrange the delivery of groceries to coincide with our arrival. I am certain it can be arranged."

"That would make me feel a whole lot better about life in general, H."

The pair enjoyed their meal and spent the next two hours talking about the arrangements needed for their trip. Hannibal was unsure at the end of the meal whether he would be taking his place beside his wife in the bedroom or spending the night on the same couch he made due with the previous night.

Clarice yawned. Hannibal stood and ever the gentleman pulled her chair out, allowing easement for his wife.

"Shall I remain, Clarice?"

"Why? Aren't you ready for bed?"

"I am unsure as to where my bed is tonight. Last night, it was the couch. The decision is yours."

You told the waiter you could handle me alone, H. Not feeling up to the task anymore?"

"I think with a little encouragement I can most definitely handle it."

Clarice took hold of the sash on his robe and tugged Hannibal playfully to the bedroom. When they reached the area beside the bed, she smoothed her hands across her husband's chest, opening his robe. She left her palms resting on his pectoral muscles.

He mirrored her movements, taking it one step further by slipping his hands over her shoulders beneath the fabric of the robe. He reached to her back, causing the robe to slip off and pool at her feet.

Clarice could feel his heartbeat slowly increase as he slipped his robe off and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed. He set her gently on the mattress and took his place beside her. The pair, rested quietly in each other's arms.

Hannibal made no overtly sexual advances, satisfied for the moment with holding his wife and kissing her lips, moving the tip of his tongue across them but not probing further.

Clarice turned her head suddenly and yawned deeply, stretching against his body as the inhalation sapped the strength from her.

"Excuse me H…I'm so sorry."

"Are you tired, my Love?"

"Exhausted…you?"

"Somewhat…Did you want to sleep?"

"Would you be upset? I don't want you to think I don't want you."

Another yawn from Clarice, she was far too tired.

"Sleep...We have a lifetime together."

Hannibal rested against his wife much lower than was customary, his head just below the bare breasts he often rested his face upon. He did this so that his arms might encircle her now swollen belly, cradling the child within.

Moments later, Clarice was asleep.

Suddenly, Hannibal felt the faintest flutter against his cheek causing heart to soar with paternal pride.

The prideful father whispered softly, the sound of his voice almost imperceptible as his lips brushed quietly against her skin, careful not to wake Clarice.

"So my little one, I feel a kick from you already? Your mother will be upset she missed it. We will keep this secret to ourselves so that she can be the first to feel it. Your father loves you very much."

His precious child would arrive soon and though Hannibal understood his wife's need to be near loved ones, Hannibal also understood that in Argentina, on their secured compound, they were safe. In the States he was unsure.

Steps would have to be taken to protect his family. Possibly…lives would be taken as well.

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH**


	41. Chapter 41

**MEETING SHELBY**

Hannibal dressed for the day in black slacks, a fitted silver-grey shirt with French cuffs and Italian wing tipped loafers paced back and forth in the sitting room of the suite. His head was lowered as he spoke on the cell phone, one hand cupped over the mouthpiece in a very obvious attempt not to be overheard.

When Clarice left the bedroom and headed toward the room he detected her impending presence and quickly exited to finish the conversation in the hallway.

She caught sight of him as he left the room and the speed with which he moved gave her pause. She knitted her eyebrows together, strode across the room and opened the door to find Hannibal in the hallway with his back to their suite. He was huddled in the corner speaking very quietly. She could only make out a word or two. She heard him call her by name. Shelby.

_Who the fuck is Shelby and why is H calling her?_

She leaned around the door frame and called to her husband, not caring whether the woman on the other end heard her or not.

"Hannibal…you and I are both aware that you can hear an mouse fart at a hundred paces so I know you know I'm here…turn around."

_Hannibal? Am I to assume that you are upset with me again, Clarice?_

He remained fully pressed into the corner but held out his arm and extended a finger his non-verbal cue directing her to wait. He spoke no more than a sentence before pocketing his phone. Without explanation he turned toward his obviously irritated wife and walked briskly down the hall to the room.

His wife's eyes did not leave him and Hannibal could see that she was obviously upset, though her upset did not concern him. He was actually quite amused by it.

"Do you have something you wanted to tell me?" Clarice questioned with her arms crossed firmly, extremely displeased.

Hannibal slipped nimbly around her and rushed to help with the luggage.

"No." He stated simply.

Clarice persisted. "No? You don't have anything to say to me…Nothing at all?"

"If there were something I wished to say, I would have said it, Clarice."

She decided to take a more direct approach. "Who were you talking to, H?"

Whistling happily, Hannibal did not respond. His mind fixated on the altered arrangements he had been scrambling to make. Of course he heard the question. It just didn't register as important enough on his radar to warrant a response, therefore he categorically dismissed it.

Actually, knowing Clarice would sense his deception and knowing he could not be honest with her, responding would only make matters worse. There were far more important things for him to consider than her minor irritation. He went about his business and continued to sort through the machinations of his mind to be certain his plan had been well thought out.

Not satisfied and not willing to be ignored. Clarice stopped in the middle of the room and leaned over until Hannibal had no choice but to shift his gaze in her direction. As soon as his eyes met hers, he smiled, knowing she would pursue him and actually enjoying the power her frustration gave him.

"I admire you tremendously in that dress, Clarice. Very breezy and flowing…the color flatters you as well. Very attractive…if we had even a few minutes more, I would lift the hem and endeavor to show you how absolutely enticing."

She ignored his flirtatious avoidance and repeated the question, this time in a much more clipped and authoritative tone.

"_Who_ were you _talking _to, H?" The words she chose to stress in the sentence stressed her anxiety.

_You've only got three numbers in that phone… two belong to men, and the other is mine. This better be good._

Hannibal took hold of the luggage and in a very matter of fact way simply stated.

"I'm not at liberty to say." He refused to elaborate further.

"You're not _what_?"

"Clarice, please… trust."

Clarice rolled her eyes. "Is that the best you can come up with? Trust…Trust what, H?""

Hannibal ignored her looks of disdain and continued to smile, knowing it irritated her to no end and finding great pleasure in that fact.

"Clarice, I assure you, I am not _coming up_ with anything. There are things that I will share with you willingly and openly and there are things that I will not. This falls into the latter category. I do not feel as if I need explain myself further. If that is not agreeable to you, there really isn't anything you can do about it aside from torturing me and it isn't as if that hasn't been tried before. If it did not work in Baltimore under Chilton's pathetic directives, what makes you think you are up to the task?"

He bent over at the waist and spoke directly to her blossoming belly.

"Hello, my little one." He planted a kiss on her stomach. "Mother is upset with me _again_. Yes it is a very _big _surprise… I know. "

Clarice slapped him squarely between his shoulders. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to make her point. "Leave the baby out of this…Who the fuck is Shelby?"

He laughed. "You will meet her soon enough and you will feel very badly that you abused me attempting to extract information."

Hannibal went about his business bringing the luggage from the bedroom to the door. He made no note of her frustration at his lack of cooperation and continued to whistle as he moved about the suite.

Clarice began to follow him, matching his movements step for step.

"Really…that's it? You're just going to ignore me now?"

Hannibal turned to his wife, pulled her deftly into his arms, kissed her passionately and released her as quickly as he had gathered her to him. He was exceedingly cheerful and would not let her worry dampen his lighthearted demeanor.

"You see, now I have not ignored you. You have nothing of which to complain."

Clarice was not one to give up easily so she took another tack appealing to his sensual side. She sauntered up to Hannibal and slipped her hands behind his neck, clasped her fingers and pulled his head to her once more. She kissed him so slowly and deeply that it caused him to trip slightly as his left knee buckled in surprise. She purred against his lips causing him to reach for her hips and pull her tightly against him, obviously aroused.

_Now I've got you where I want you, husband._

Hannibal scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom driving his face into her neck and nuzzling against her skin.

He continued to kiss her neck as Hannibal approached the bed.

"H…Are you going to tell me who you were on the phone with?"

He was biting her ear and teasing at the lobe with his teeth.

"Mmmm…No!"

Hannibal's response was quick and decisive as he very carefully, though exceedingly unceremoniously dropped his wife onto the pillow top mattress below. Without another word Hannibal turned, almost doubled in laughter, and quickly sprinted from the room, knowing Clarice would soon be in hot pursuit.

Clarice flipped over, scrambled off the bed and chased after Hannibal. She caught up to him just before he was able to escape the room.

"That is very lady-like Clarice…" He noted as he pointed to her dress, hiked up along her thigh. "…though I am enjoying the view perhaps you would like to adjust yourself before the bellman arrives."

Clarice smoothed her dress as she squared off across from her husband. Her hand remained on the doorknob, stopping him from exiting. With her free hand, she poked a finger into his chest.

Hannibal was laughing hysterically. "Stop…you're killing me, Clarice."

"How dare you drop your pregnant wife?"

Still laughing, he was now doubled over holding his side.

"I deposited in a very safe manner. It may not have been the most graceful of entries you have ever made into our bed however you were never in harm's way, I assure you. After all it would have been difficult to have attained terminal velocity a mere three inches from the mattress, Clarice."

There was a knock on the door. Clarice, her hand still on the doorknob, tore it open causing the surprised bellman to jump back. He was most likely already terrified to be picking up Hannibal Lecter's luggage.

"Clarice you have probably taken two years off this poor young man's life." Hannibal directed his next comment to the bellman, obviously still affected. "Please accept our apologies. My wife and I were having a bit of fun. I'm sorry you were unwittingly affected."

"It's not a problem, Sir."

He staggered into the room and holding a hand over his heart to quell his pounding heartbeat, began to load the luggage on a dolly. He disappeared into the hallway as quickly as he could manage. "Doctor and Mrs. Lecter, I will hold the elevator, please take your time."

With a grand sweep of his arm, Hannibal held the door open for his wife. "After you, my Love."

She paused in front of him and wagged a finger in warning. "This isn't over, H…not by a long shot."

Still laughing and thoroughly pleased with himself, Hannibal grabbed the hand she had poked him with and kissed it as she passed. "I had not expected it would be."

Clarice chose not to pursue the topic of the phone call while in the limo as this driver had been privy to enough of their private life. He didn't need to serve witness to anymore of their personal interactions.

At the airport Hannibal moved to a kiosk and began to tap away at the screen. As soon as he completed this transaction he turned and handed Clarice her passport and flight documentation, certain to draw his index finger along her hand as he released the material, the sense memory of which caused the first smile from Clarice of the day.

As the pair moved through security, under the many nervous and curious stares of passengers and employees alike, Hannibal prepared for what he was certain would be a fairly intrusive security check. Not something he had to face when traveling anonymously, but as Dr. Hannibal Lecter, maroon irises and all…he would be pulled aside for 'random additional screening'.

Clarice moved through the security line quickly and became immediately concerned for her husband as he was quickly separated from her. Hannibal was moved to the side and asked to raise his arms and spread his legs apart. The security personnel handled him respectively but the inspection was probably going to be extremely thorough. Hannibal continued to smile and followed their directions amiably.

Clarice noticed several individuals in the area holding up cell phones recording the process. _Great …more Youtube views._

Hannibal was absolutely immune to this level of inspection. After so many years of wholly unnecessary body cavity searches at Chilton's direction, a pat down and quick feel up in an airport seemed to him to be a minor inconvenience at best.

As they nervously circled him with the security wand, he assessed their abilities and found them lacking.

_Fear is too much upon you, gentlemen. The monster will not bite…not in public anyway. It's time to come out and play. _

"Hello Gentlemen…are you enjoying your day thus far?" He probed the pair more with his flashing maroon eyes searching for weakness like lasers passing over them, than they were able to probe him, metal detector included.

The taller guard of the pair looked up at his colleague and back to Hannibal without speaking. The shorter and more muscular man appeared slightly less terrified, but obviously neither man was comfortable.

"Our day is going well, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal smiled a very devious little smile. His small white teeth flashed as if he had just snared the man in a trap, as well he had.

"So you _are_ aware of who I am. I thought as much."

The taller man glared at the smaller, not at all pleased to have been exposed so easily. "My apologies…we are only following orders."

He could smell the fear leaking from their pores and inhaled deeply, the scent of it immensely satisfying.

"You may feel free to search me as thoroughly as you wish. I am not at all offended by the closer inspection. Though I assure you it is unnecessary, I am certain the additional scrutiny will make the other travelers feel more secure."

"Thank you for your understanding, Sir." The taller man stated nervously.

Hannibal allowed the intrusion, certain to turn his face in the direction of each man as they moved around him. He leaned toward them just enough to make the process extremely unnerving to the guards in such forced proximity.

Clarice was standing just on the other side of the checkpoint, growing frustrated at the level of scrutiny her husband was being forced to endure. Three other men had been pulled aside for additional screening and cleared while Hannibal remained under their watchful assessment. Clarice had enough when they began to inspect his groin.

"Hey, why don't you just bust out a tape measure if you're that curious?" She called out to the shorter man now thoroughly inspecting Hannibal's inseam.

The guard, embarrassed at the insinuation, backed off slightly. "I mean no disrespect."

Hannibal laughed. Clarice was so overprotective. If she had any idea half of the demoralizing and demeaning things he had been forced to endure, she wouldn't bat an eye at this.

"I love you as well, Clarice." Hannibal called out to his wife knowing her defense of him was a reflection of her love and concern.

He then turned his attention to the guards.

"You must understand, this level of inspection occurs each time we travel. My wife loves me very much and takes extreme offense for me. I expect scrutiny because of course, my reputation for violence precedes me. I do appreciate your professionalism and beg your tolerance of my wife's comments. She is pregnant and quite emotional at times."

The men finished their investigation and stepped back from Hannibal. The larger man waved him forward. "You are free to proceed to the gate, Doctor. Thank you for your patience."

"Have a wonderful day, gentlemen."

Hannibal joined Clarice. She was so concerned with the side show atmosphere Hannibal's security check had created and did not notice the change in ticketing until the attendant at the desk stamped her passport.

_What the hell, H._

Clarice didn't act surprised or react in any way until they were far enough away from the checkpoint and on their way to the designated airline and the appropriate gate.

"H, are we flying to the states right now?" She asked with no small measure of glee.

"Yes, my Love. We are. You can purchase the necessary clothing when we arrive in Baltimore. We must also purchase a cradle and turn the spare bedroom into a temporary nursery until you are ready to bring our child back to Patagonia."

Clarice jumped into Hannibal's arms.

"H, that is the sweetest thing you've ever done for me!"

"I think I've got this beat, Clarice. You haven't seen my apology."

"Apology, H?"

"The situation with Emilia was…difficult. I wanted to apologize but I didn't think dinner and chocolates were enough."

"What did you do, H?"

"Trust, Clarice…trust."

Hours later, Hannibal and Clarice pulled onto the tree-lined street in Baltimore. Hannibal hadn't been back to the home since the night he stabbed Will Graham. He loved the house and was thrilled Clarice agreed to stay there. The moment she saw the apology, she understood the phone call.

There in the driveway with a deep crimson bow fixed to the roof sat a fully restored bright blue 1966 Shelby GT-500 Mustang with bold white racing stripes. The Maryland license plate read 4-MYLOVE.

"Clarice…I'd like to present Shelby."

"Oh my god, H! She is gorgeous!"

"Do you accept my apology?"

Clarice didn't say a word. Her kiss spoke for her.

After admiring the car, baby car seat already installed, Clarice and Hannibal walked arm and arm to their home fully engrossed with one another.

Neither Clarice not Hannibal noticed the intense eyes that watched from the darkness. Neither realized the happiness of their return to the States would be short-lived. Emilia had many friends in low places. This one was not only dedicated…he would prove to be merciless.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	42. Chapter 42

**MEMORIES**

Clarice snuggled against Hannibal, their bodies fully relaxed from the heat of their recent shower. Hannibal pulled his wife against him, enjoying the unusual sensations her still damp hair caused.

An eyebrow lifted as he processed the stray lock that tickled against his rib cage, the curl of hair twisting and rising at it began to dry. The feeling intrigued him, another memory he would treasure in the future. He opened his memory palace and unlocked the door to the room entitled, _MY LOVE. _ Hannibal reverently placed that moment within and secured the room.

Clarice lifted her head slightly, shifting the curl that had been brushing against her husband's side. He found himself disappointed at the loss of it. Many of the smallest things that passed between them during the course of their lives together had proven to be immensely satisfying.

Hannibal Lecter was a man of broad experiences. There had been very little in life that he had not directly observed or studied upon which he had not formed some basis of knowledge. Yet here in his bed holding his wife as a stray lock of her hair whispered along his flesh, she became more a masterpiece in his eyes than any work of art in any museum he had ever stood before.

Hannibal…his intellect so immense, and so unparalleled that he was truly a giant among men, here, now completely naked holding his lover in his arms, he was humbled before her and fully content to be so.

_You rival Venus, Clarice. _

Clarice centered her ear on his torso just to the right of his sternum. She sought not only hear, but also feel the strong thumping of her husband's heartbeat as it struck against her cheek. She smiled when the beating tapped along her face. Clarice slightly tilted her head and looked around, careful to maintain precious contact with his body.

With rapt attention, Hannibal watched as Clarice carefully surveyed the room, quietly taking in all of the details. He understood her process as in some ways it was similar to his own. Her opinions were based on her ability to gather and assess information. When she had acquired all the information she found pertinent, she would formulate a series of questions and pose each of them to Hannibal.

_What do you have in store for me, my Love? You will have questions, no doubt? _

"Why did you buy this house back, H?" Clarice asked with genuine curiosity. "It's the building you were captured from. I'd think it might hold some bad memories for you."

Hannibal processed the question and searched his thoughts, attempting to secure a reason other than he liked the architectural style and the layout of the home suited him. He believed she might be searching for an emotional response or attachment. Thus far he had none to offer.

"This home suits me, Clarice. I cannot form a response other than that." He stated without additional thought as he was much more entertained with the figures he continued to trace on her body.

She shifted under his touch. Each movement of his hand sent lightning-like impulses firing along her nervous system. She found herself hoping he was not jet-lagged but refocused her attention on her question.

"So…this house…It suits you? That's it?"

"That and I have always admired the way in which light plays about the home at different times during the day. I had always found it a very pleasant place in which to live. I had hoped one day, it could be again. I was correct in that. This is very pleasant, is it not?"

"You like the way light plays? It's more than that, H. To purchase a home where you would obviously be immediately recognized if you attempted to move in? You might be able to fly under the radar anywhere else because you are adept at blending in and it would be difficult to place you out of context, but not here. Here you would be very much _in_ context. The homes here don't turn over frequently. Many of your old neighbors have remained and would instantly recognize you. It is pleasant but there's more to it isn't there, H?"

Hannibal thought for a moment more.

_She's correct. What was it? I wanted the home even though I was aware that I could not take up residence. At least not right away. Why did I want it?_

Hannibal's distinctive mind operated on several levels though fully in concert with his senses as he considered how to explain his thoughts to his wife.

He processed the sensation of her body, fully aligned with his as their breathing somehow naturally synchronized from their intimate contact.

Hannibal traced small figures by using the index and middle fingers of his right hand, gliding them gracefully along her flesh twisting and twirling much like the legs of a figure skater turning a figure eight.

As he formed the tiny patterns, he breathed deeply and his chest expanded to gauge her reaction to his touch, his deep inhalations necessary to gather the pheromones and evaluate her interest. All this while organizing the thoughts needed to answer her question.

His mind quickly sorted through hundreds of possibilities, each of which he considered and summarily dismissed. The true answer came to him suddenly as if he had rounded a corner and abruptly discovered his motivations flashing on a neon sign before him.

"I believe Clarice, that it reminded me of a time in my life before my incarceration when I was free and quite content."

Clarice arched her back to encourage his contact, her body burning from his touch.

"You only wanted to be content? Why not happy?"

"The words are synonymous."

"They may be synonyms but in my mind, the connotation is slightly different. Content is satisfied. Happy is another level of contentment. There is an implied joy present in one word that isn't necessarily present in the other word.

_Very clever girl!_

"I could not find happiness without you in my life and did not believe I would be able to earn your love. If I could not be truly happy, I thought I might find a way to be content again. This seemed as good a place as any."

"That makes more sense than, 'you liked the way the light played', I'll give you that."

Clarice wanted to know everything about Hannibal and he wanted nothing more in life than to please her. For Clarice he would not only unlock every room of his memory palace, he would describe the contents and without reservation fully explain the significance. The pair, totally at home in each other's company, had built a level intimacy that most married couples would envy.

Hannibal preferred the bedroom cold as did Clarice therefore body heat was preferable to an increase in the thermostat setting. As Hannibal moved his hand along his wife's body, the blanket shifted and she shuddered as a slight chill moved through her.

In response, her concerned husband gathered the blankets around her to help trap the heat and allow his flesh to warm hers as he insulated his wife against the crisp November air.

Hannibal could see that Clarice was assembling more information. That meaning there would be more questions to be asked.

"I am curious…what are you thinking, Clarice?" He asked, intensely interested in her reaction to the home.

"About what, H?"

"What do you think about the house? Do you like it?"

"This room…this entire house is very…you…H."

Hannibal paused, attempting to determine exactly what Clarice meant by the statement.

"I am uncertain how to take that comment my Love."

Clarice began to weave her fingertips in and out of the hair on Hannibal's chest. She had never felt safer in the world than she did in his arms. She reached around him and squeezed his body as if the action was her way of giving and receiving love.

He understood her meaning and held her very tightly against him.

Again, it was the sensation that interested him. She had a physical command over him that no one else ever had. Her touch caused a tingling that began in the very center of his being and radiated throughout. Hannibal imagined that she had within her fingertips enough power contained that with a wave of her hand she could move clouds or bend the very tops of trees to her will.

"I was thinking…the home is very traditional and it's very masculine but, I don't know how to describe it…I guess the best word is… intellectual… just like you. It's all books, instruments, antiques, tapestries and artifacts…almost like a castle in Europe or…"

"Lithuania, Clarice. That is the location of my ancestral home on my father's side."

Hannibal's breathing deepened. Clarice noticed.

"And your mother was a noblewoman but not Lithuanian?"

"She was Italian…her family Milanese, from the Visconti and Sforza lines. I enjoyed researching my ancestral lineage at the Biblioteca Capponi, unfortunately, Rinaldo Pazzi interrupted my plans. It was a shame really. That particular space, the palazzo, had soaring ceilings and dimensions that I found quite pleasant. I am grateful…it brought me back to you."

"Tradition is very important to you, isn't it, H?" Clarice spoke softly, knowing the loss of his family was troubling and probably not something on which he wished to dwell.

He traced the figures on her body far slower when he spoke of his past. The tone of his voice lowered and his countenance took on a much less playful appearance. He obviously felt their loss deeply, though he would never put it in that way.

"Tradition is all I have left of my family. Though I may have lost them physically, I have maintained in my memory all of the stories and oral history they took the time to pass to me."

"How…you were so young? I have flashes of conversations with my parents…fragments of stories but not much else. How could you remember such detail?" She thought of the details of his drawings in his cell.

_Memory is what I have Agent Starling, instead of a view._

"My memories are visual. I assemble my thoughts in images. I store the images and can call on them at will. Ambient sound… aromas…textures, senses can also trigger my memory."

"How do you store an image?" She asked, tracing aimless patterns on his stomach.

"Anything I wish to remember or have ever wished to remember I place in a special section within my mind much like a room that I designate for that purpose. I have done this for as long as I can remember. The space grows with every new room."

"Your parents died around your eighth birthday?"

"Yes, about that time."

"And yet you remember very specific details about conversations you had with your parents?"

"Though I was quite young I am thankful my parents respected my intellect enough to have shared my history with me. I have good recall therefore most of what I was told has stayed with me. What gaps existed I have been able to fill in through research."

"I think you surround yourself with these things to help you fill in the gaps as well." Clarice noted as she matched his patterns with those of her own.

"Yes…that would be a reasonable assumption. When I consider the items I purchased for this home, it may be that on a subconscious level, I continue to search for possessions that remind me of that time of my life, before the war. You are quite intuitive, Clarice."

Hannibal had not interrupted the pattern as he traced tiny figure eights on the small of her back. The significance of the pattern he continually traced known thus far only to him. He sought her intention.

"You believe the home needs a woman's touch…Yes?"

Clarice sighed, enjoying his touch and wanting him not only to continue but to advance his intention.

"I don't know H…I don't think it needs a _woman's_ touch. You have wonderful taste. It just needs a little…I don't know, I really can't put my finger on it." She reached beneath the sheets to smooth her hand across his abdomen. She continued to absentmindedly trace similar patterns on his stomach.

Hannibal smiled when he recognized she was matching her movements to his.

_Do you realize the significance of what I am doing, Clarice?_

"You cannot put your finger on it? Could it be that it is not satisfactory to you because there is nothing that reflects your presence in my life. After all, I did purchase the home before you and I were together."

"You are intuitive too, H. That's got to be it. I see you everywhere I look but I really want to see us."

"Clarice you may feel free to add or remove anything you wish. There is nothing here that is of any consequence or has any personal significance to me. The only thing I ask is that the music room not be touched. Aside from that you have Carte Blanche, my Love."

"I wouldn't change anything here anymore than I would change you, H. I'll fix up the spare room for the baby but other than that, this home will remain as it is. You need to have your own place in this world. One where you can be and where nothing will change…I owe you that."

Hannibal gathered her to him and she lifted her face to him. He reached for her throat to find her pulse point, her eyes closed, knowing his lips would follow.

Hannibal searched her lips with his, gently nibbling on her bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it. He then traced his tongue the underside of her upper lip, tracing it along her teeth.

"You are delicious, my Love."

"You're yummy too, H."

Hannibal reached again for her lips, this time beginning to trace the figure eight along her lips very gently with his tongue.

Recognizing the reappearance of this pattern was designed to be noticed, Clarice pulled back from her husband.

"Okay…I'm obviously not getting the little figure eights you are continually drawing all over me. Give it up, H. What's the significance of the number eight?"

"It would be the number eight if the figure were vertical. The figure I have been tracing is similar, though it is horizontal."

"Infinity?" She questioned although she was confident, knowing her answer was the only possibility.

"Yes, it represents to me a perfect symbol of our love. It extends indefinitely and has no limitations. Much like our love, don't you agree, Clarice."

"Yeah, H…I agree."

**EMILIA REMEMBERS**

Emilia remained within her suite in Buenos Aires when the phone buzzed on the table beside her bed. Unable to reach it, she made a mental note to check it later. The gentleman in her company had chosen to bind her and she was in no position to argue. Not that she would have in any case though she might have asked him to release one hand had she not been gagged as well.

Her mind tumbled through a confusing set of stimuli, the prurient pleasures now interrupted. Her attention shifted as she considered the possibility that one of the guardians she had placed in various locations throughout the globe had indeed spotted Hannibal. Clarice was of no concern to her.

_You will be mine again, Hannibal…I am patient…you will beg for me the way I begged for you._

Emilia's thoughts burned as the synapses fired across her grey matter, lightning bolts of electricity surging as the gentleman in her company asserted his will. This searing pain opened the locks and channels in her mind. Memories of Hannibal stormed from the past and overtook her.

This man with her did not move her to tears of joy the way that Hannibal did. No one had…his will far more assertive his sadistic imagination far more creative and ingenious. He could ignore cries of mercy, her ecstasy. Hannibal not only ignored them, he drove her to them. Though he did not allow his own needs to outweigh hers…he had restraint and knew the boundaries of her anatomy.

_Not a man like most men… maybe not a man at all…more like the Beast taking the form of a man for his distraction and amusement. Where is the Beast now? Surely not with that woman…you are so much smaller now, Less Than. You had been All. You could be again, but only with me. I will make you see that._

She had understood that he felt no love for her. That fact had not bothered Emilia because she believed he was not capable of that emotion.

Now she had seen him with Clarice and she knew differently she was greatly disturbed. As a witness to his new capacity for love, his capacity for tenderness, a mirror had been held to her vast deficiencies. The grotesque listing of insufficiencies bore into her as if she had been lowered into a vat of acid that etched the full measure of her infinite insecurities onto her soul.

_Was I not enough for you? I could have been more. I wanted to be…I will be…much, much more. _

Emilia understood that Clarice stirred emotions within Hannibal that she could not. This caused no small measure of pain. She wanted him. Hannibal was merciless and mercy in equal measure. She had been both terrified and reassured in his presence. He was Rage but Hannibal Lecter had tempered that rage measures of both pleasure and pain. The pleasure had been rapturous. The agony…sublime.

**INFINITE**

Hannibal's answer to the question did not surprise Clarice. Many things about him did, but not the depth of his love. She understood that fully the night in the home on the Chesapeake. The night the cleaver fell. As she did often when that memory breached, she took hold of that hand and kissed the inside of his arm on the part where his scar was most visible.

"I love you so much, H."

"I love you so much more, Clarice."

She never argued that point. He could make that claim whether it was true or not. He had earned that right in blood and she would never deny him it.

"Prove it." Was all the challenge she need put forth.

Hannibal gathered her against his body. She was resting alongside him with her head on his chest, the position in which they most often slept. He gently turned her onto her side and began to kiss her, slipping his hand under her hair which still was rich with the fragrance of almond.

Clarice loved his kiss, so tender and searching. She often wondered how a man capable of such ferocity could also be capable of such tenderness. She believed it must have been that he was loved very much as a child.

_His mother must have loved him so much...he must have felt her love so deeply._

When Clarice had a question, she asked it. Her timing was not always the best.

"Do you remember your mother, H? How you felt about her?" She questioned the moment his lips strayed from hers to search the soft flesh of her neck.

He paused.

"Pardon?"

"Your mom? You must have loved her very much. Do you remember how she made you feel…how much she loved you?"

Hannibal lifted her chin. "Clarice, please… while I appreciate your curiosity, at this particular moment in time there are many things I would like to feel not the least among them being your lovely body. Meaning no filial disrespect I absolutely do not wish to recall my feelings for my mother. It is somewhat of a mood killer, if you take my meaning."

Clarice laughed and pulled him on top of her. "Sorry, H…bad timing."

"To say the very least." He moved carefully to the side, angling his body to maximize his contact with hers but careful to minimize the amount of weight he placed on her small frame. He continued where he left off, the tender flesh of her neck.

Hannibal nuzzled beneath the hair, moving it aside with his nose and he teased her flesh with his teeth.

Clarice shifted her body slightly and it stilled him quickly.

"Are you uncomfortable?" He placed his hands protectively over her belly.

She covered his hands with hers. "No, I think the baby kicked. Is it too early? Maybe it's just gas."

He smoothed his thumbs across the swollen flesh of her abdomen. The pregnancy was becoming more obvious every day. "Is it a slight flutter, like the wings of a butterfly?"

She was surprised at the accuracy of his description. She had been unable to explain it herself.

"That's it exactly! What is it?"

Hannibal smiled. He had not and would not tell her that he had already felt the baby kick.

"That would be our child Clarice. The baby will be making his or her presence known now. You will feel many things that are unusual. Does it worry you? Do you want to stop?"

"Not if it won't hurt the baby."

He ran his fingertips up the length of her forearms. "There is no worry of that."

Clarice brushed a kiss gently across his lips. "Don't stop, …I've missed you."

"I have missed you as well, my Love." He reached for her and kissed her, his mouth exploring hers, rolling his head from side to side very slowly as the passion between them slowly building. Hannibal gently pulled her to him. He wanted to feel her breasts against his chest. They remained this way for several minutes, his hands searching her body, his mouth tasting her flesh.

Growing impatient, Hannibal wrapped his arms around his wife and rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. Early in their relationship this position had been troubling for Clarice but no longer. She had struggled with the eye contact, his gaze so powerfully expressive she found it disconcerting. Now, she sought his crimson eyes and wanted nothing more to look at him. His intensity initially discomforting, now aside from his arms around her, it was the thing in the world that brought her the most comfort.

Clarice's heart rate began to build as her husband moved his strong hands up and down her quadriceps, massaging the length of her legs. She was centered on his body though he made no move to enter her. He continued to increase the pressure of his fingers digging deeply into the muscles driving the tension from them. Her voice was soft and airy as he attempted to relax her tired muscles. "Oh…God, H…that's wonderful."

He did not respond. That was not unusual. Often, when he concentrated, though he could hear every word, he would ignore stimuli he deemed extraneous. He moved his attention from her legs and grasped her waist, allowing his hands to reach over her hips and back to her bottom. He squeezed the muscles and pulled her closer.

Clarice rolled her hips forward. Hannibal's eyes closed.

_Too much stimuli…slow down._

Hannibal stopped her movement by reaching up, running his fingers along her back to her shoulders and pulling her lower.

"You don't want me moving, H?" She teased as she gently rocked against him eliciting a low groan from her husband.

"I don't mind, Clarice but I would think you might want to avoid it for a moment or my enjoyment will end early and yours will not begin."

Clarice laughed and doubled over, her palms flat on her husband's chest, her breasts brushing against his face. Hannibal craned his neck and captured her flesh, teasing with his small white teeth.

"Oww, take it easy…I'm thinking of breast feeding. The baby will need that nipple!"

"I'm thinking of breast feeding as well, Clarice and I don't want to keep the nipple…I just want to borrow it for a while." He teased as her reached for her again.

Hannibal pressed his palms upward against his wife's hips, lifting her slightly. He shifted himself until he was centered and whispered in her ear, nibbling at the lobe as the words left his lips.

"Whenever you are ready my Love."

She leaned over and kissed him, rolling her hips over his readied body. "I'm always ready for you, H."

As Clarice slowly lowered herself, through pursed lips she drew in a long slow breath and held it.

As he did each time he entered her, Hannibal watched with the rapt attention and humility of a man approaching an altar. He listened carefully and waited patiently exactly the way he did each and every time they made love.

As her body reached his base, Hannibal's quick uptake of breath signaled his satisfaction, his precious wife very quietly emitted the sound that drove him to his passion…the very slightest whisper of breath…the airiest hint of sigh escaped her as Clarice's sensitive muscles relaxed around him and her sublime body welcomed him in.

_Ecce deus fortior me qui veniens dominabitur mihi. Behold a god more powerful than I who comes to rule over me._

Slowly, when he was certain she was comfortable and composed, Hannibal began to move.

Clarice claimed her husband as she grasped his body and held him tightly within her own.

Hannibal did not look away, her eyes as open to him and searching as was her heart.

As he moved, eyes locked within hers, his senses took over.

He felt her hair, swinging back and forth across his face, the movement stirring the scent of her shampoo. He tasted her lips, he searched every surface of her body, feeling the changing textures as he moved his mouth from the smooth underside of her breast across the outer curve, and across to the tightly pebbled flesh of each exquisite areola. He latched on to her breast and carefully watched the expression on her face as he escalated the contact. _She is smiling._

"My Love…"

Her face reflected a relaxed concentration. "Not now, H…"

_Her end is near._

Her body rocked faster as her attentive husband sensed her heightened passion, her impending rapture and matched the rhythm by responding in kind. Their lovemaking had become much more efficient. He learned her body and understood precisely what pleased her. She had done the same. Hannibal's rising pleasure now obvious as he groaned against her flesh, the humming vibrations undulating along the surface of her breast.

She spoke very little. "Mmmm, H…more."

Hannibal searched her flesh, teasing with his teeth all while following her lead. Finally he sensed her breathing quicken. He recognized that he that he could finally relax his control. She would finish soon, he could as well.

"H…oh my god…H…"

He held her tightly as her body trembled with the overwhelming emotion of her physical release.

His release soon followed and as Hannibal shuddered clutching his wife to him, he suddenly caught a scent that was out of place. He quickly released his hold on her breast, his eyes flew open.

Clarice, her rapture fully waned had been watching him. His shift from the afterglow of orgasm to what appeared to be hyper-vigilance terrified her.

"Hannibal…you're scaring me. What's going on?"

Hannibal jumped to his feet and pulled on his pants, quickly zipping them and shoving his feet into his shoes.

"Clarice! Hide! There is someone in the house!"

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	43. Chapter 43

**HANNIBAL AND CLARICE-TOGETHER**

Clarice tossed the tangled sheets aside and rolled off the bed. As soon as her feet hit the plush pile of the vintage Persian rug she ran across the bedroom to the closet and threw open the door. She quickly dragged out a large gym bag and reached within tearing clothing from it. She tossed unwanted garments over her shoulder until she found the loose fitting clothes she had been seeking.

Clarice hopped around as she quickly stuffed her legs into her sweat pants, dragged a sweat shirt over her head but chose to remain barefoot. Time was of the essence and she had to forgo the shoes to retrieve something far more important.

Ex- Special Agent Starling quickly moved to her luggage and opened an inside compartment. She lifted the Yaqui slide and withdrew her weapon from the streamlined holster.

She hefted the Colt .45 government model, with a strip of skateboard tape affixed to the grip and took two speed loaders and stuffed them into her pocket. Though she had never officially retired from the FBI, no one thought to ask what happened to her weapon. It was a part of her and she wasn't about to _volunteer_ to return it.

She lifted and cocked it. "Hide my Ass! If you're going downstairs, I'm going too!"

As soon as he caught the scent of the intruder, Hannibal knew she would not stay in the bedroom. She would never be that kind of woman. She would never hide. Not from anything or anyone. Not even from him. He loved her for it.

"Brave Clarice…would you at least allow me to be Primary?"

"Sure, I'll be Secondary. Do you have your Harpy?"

"Yes of course and Clarice…for the baby. Stay back. I have no idea who it is or what they want. I only know it is a male."

"I'll stay back. I just want to make sure you're safe, H."

Hannibal reached for his wife and kissed her. He then extended an arm and moved her protectively behind him.

"Follow my Love…but not too closely."

"Understood."

Hannibal moved out of the bedroom and into the hallway displaying what Clarice believed was surprising speed and agility for a man his age. He did all of this without making a sound.

_God how do you do that, H? It looks so natural. An old lion…but a lion still. _

Clarice was spellbound. She had never seen him in this mode. He was Predator stalking Prey. She was trained to do this. It was drilled and drilled into her brain but it did not come naturally to her. She acquired the abilities through years of practice. Earlier in her training, many mistakes were made.

_Remember to watch the corner Clarice… it's your weak spot._

Hannibal's eyes were everywhere, their glowing crimson rotated like the beacons of a lighthouse, ever searching. Clarice strained, narrowing her eyes and still she could barely see. She fixed her sights on her husband's back knowing that he would keep her safe. After all his eyes could see clearly in the low light and his sense of smell was even more reliable. For her husband, with his unusual gifts, this was natural. He moved with his body at an odd angle, his right shoulder leading and his body leaning slightly forward.

_He slices through space and barely displaces the air around him_.

Clarice watched his muscles shifting very slowly. He had not bothered with a shirt. He craned his neck, searching the air, his nostrils flaring. He turned to Clarice, waved a hand and pointed down the stairs.

_Okay, H…I get it. He's not on this level._

Clarice nodded her understanding.

Hannibal moved along the stairs, leaning on the bannister to allow him a better angle of view, he was crouched low. Still his nostrils flared. His eyebrows were forced together, bunching tightly above the bridge of his nose, his look one of caution and slight confusion.

He continued to move his head back and forth, up and down as if he formed a search pattern much like a grid for his olfactory senses. His Harpy in his hand, his arm was extended wide and low. Bowed at the waist he crossed one leg over the other as he advanced. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he allowed himself to relax slightly. He turned to Clarice.

"He is no longer in the home. I'm going outside. I want you to take the Mustang and go to Ardelia's. I will call you in two hours."

"What if you need the car?"

"I have a car. A BMW stored in a garage not far from here, but I'll not need it. This person left on foot or the scent would not be as strong as it is. I will follow until I lose the trail."

Clarice refused to entertain the thought. "And what if you don't lose the scent? What if you corner him in a dark alley or something like that."

"I will not attempt to make contact. I simply want to identify who this person is and what his intentions are. Go to Ardelia. I cannot follow him and leave you behind. If he doubles back you would be in great jeopardy. That is not an option. You must promise me."

Clarice stared into his pleading maroon eyes seeking his intention.

"H…Please…no contact. _You_ must promise _me_…on my life and the life of our child that you won't approach. You will watch and gather information only. Promise me, H or I'll follow. You know I'll follow."

Hannibal was shifting uncomfortably, turning his head from side to side slowly as he searched the air. "I promise, Clarice…the scent is fading. You must leave now. I cannot follow until I know you are on your way to Ardelia._" _

Hannibal reached for a jacket. He placed it over his bare upper body, protection against the cold November air, and zipped it quickly.

He had moments only. "Now Clarice!"

He tossed her the set of keys to her new car. She snatched them from the air.

"Two hours, H…two hours that's all you get. I want a call."

"Yes, Clarice…two hours. I will call you. Do not return until that time."

Clarice grabbed a pair of running shoes she had left in the foyer, quickly put them on and walked out the front door. Hannibal followed and waited until she had pulled out and turned the corner. He set out trotting down the road the easy pace of the run no struggle. Hannibal shook his head quickly as if attempting to shake the offensive scent from his nasal passages.

_Your cologne is thick and acrid…easy to track though not enjoyable. With the use of more soap, less cologne would be necessary my friend._

Clarice knew she wouldn't be able to follow on foot and the throaty sound of the mustang's powerful engine was very distinctive. She would have to track him from quite a distance not to be detected. Thankfully there weren't many people on the roads. He was obviously the only person running.

_Okay, H…you'd better keep your promise. Just take a nice jog and come back home._

Hannibal was having no difficulty for the first several minutes following the odiferous intruder. Clarice was having no difficulty following Hannibal…until he stopped.

_What the hell, H?_

In the blink of an eye, Hannibal's body language changed dramatically. He stiffened his posture and lowered his head, which had previously been turned upward searching the air. He pulled the collar of his jacket up around his face.

Clarice pulled over quickly realizing that if she overtook him while driving, the car would be far too easy to spot. She watched. He was three blocks ahead of her and on the right side of the road. It was a one way road so she was able to pull to the curb quickly and park on the left hand side, diagonally opposite Hannibal. The street was residential with people walking dogs and many residents entering and exiting their homes. Unusual activity for this time of night but as it was a holiday week no doubt preparations were being made.

Hannibal's heart beat slowed as he stood very still and consciously lowered his heart rate. Danger was approaching. He needed to be calm and ready.

_He is nearer than he was. He is now moving toward me._

Hannibal continued to move, appearing as if searching his pockets for something. His head was very low but his eyes were up and focused. He removed a set of keys from his pocket and fumbled through them as if seeking a certain key.

Suddenly his head shifted so quickly it caught Clarice's attention. Hannibal's eyes flashed red as a tall man passed him. Clarice understood exactly what was happening from Hannibal's demeanor alone.

_Oh God! That's got to be him!_

Clarice's heart was thumping so quickly in her chest that she believed it would split her sternum. She watched Hannibal take off running. Though he was fifty or more full paces behind the man, he was closing quickly and at a distance that Clarice believed was no longer safe. She watched as her husband reached into his pocket and snapped his arm outward. There was a flash as the light from a street lamp caught metal. The Harpy was in his hand.

_No, H! God no! There are people everywhere!_

The man extended his arm forward, pointing something.

Hannibal was three or four steps behind. He bent low as he eyed his target, the man's Achilles tendons.

Clarice stepped out of the mustang with her Colt held tightly and her thumb moving over the course tape designed to enhance her grip. She kept her arm low and out of sight.

_Go anywhere near my husband and I'm gonna light you up! _

Suddenly Clarice heard a chirp. The man had a car. Just as he moved to the driver's side and swung the door open, Hannibal moved past. The man was no longer a threat. He pocketed his Harpy, turned his head and quickly made note of the make, model, and plate number.

Hannibal was walking briskly toward her. She decided it would be best not to move. Movement would draw his eye to her. He reached for his cell phone and dialed Clarice.

Her phone rang out loudly. She had a distinctive ring tone for Hannibal. Bach.

Hannibal recognized it immediately and sought her location. It took less than a second for him to see her. He was not pleased but, he was not surprised.

He approached the car, his body now relaxed. "You made me a promise, Clarice. You did not keep it."

"Didn't look like you intended to keep yours either, H."

"I believed he was heading back to our home. I would have you safe, Clarice."

"I would have you safe too, H." Clarice braced herself for his anger. She had lied to him. He would not be happy. "I tried but Ardelia wasn't home so...I was in the area so I thought you might need a ride."

Hannibal sensed her deception immediately though instead of the anger Clarice expected, he smiled widely at her.

_You were worried about me my Love?_

He walked to the passenger side door and waited for Clarice to unlock it. As he entered the vehicle he leaned over to kiss her. She was thrilled and kissed him eagerly. She had been expecting his wrath not his affection.

"Not at home was she?"

"No...not home."

He took out his cell phone and moved to make a call. She held onto his hand, stopping him.

"Who'ya calling H?"

"Logan."

"Okay…I'm busted. I didn't call Ardelia. I was too worried about you."

Hannibal put his phone away.

"I love you as well, Clarice."

She started the car and began the drive back to their home.

"So, what do we do now, H?" She asked as she attempted to concentrate on driving.

"We upgrade the security system tomorrow. I will remain awake tonight just in case our friend friend returns...did you see any sign of forced entry?"

"No as a matter of fact I didn't."

"That being the case we must assume this person has a key. I am quite certain I secured the doors before we retired to our bedroom and all of the windows are locked as well. We must have all of the locks changed as well."

"How would he get it? Who would have a key, H?"

"Many years ago I gave a key to Emilia. When I was initially incarcerated I asked her to secure the home for me. She did return the key to my attorney but I must assume that a copy was made. It would seem that not only did she keep a copy of the key she has obviously passed it along to a friend. I'm afraid we must be extremely cautious from this point forward. A friend of Emilia's is not a friend of ours. That person will return and we must be exceedingly prepared when he does."

Clarice thought to herself that it was good she had the Colt. "If this person comes back…we'll be ready, H."

"Yes, my Love. Together…we will be ready."

**Until the next chapter, my Friends!**

**LH**


	44. Chapter 44

**INTRIGUE**

Hannibal sat at the desk in his study and remembered the night he was taken. The arrows were still in his side, bullets lodged as well. Will Graham fired several rounds at him, into him. Thankfully, he had not been mortally wounded. That life seemed so long ago…so very far away.

Hannibal remembered the letter written to Clarice from Florence telling her that his disgrace and public shaming had meant little to him. He sought to put her troubles in perspective and was concerned this level of scrutiny would harm her. His own perceived disgrace had not bothered him. He cared little what society thought of him as he did not view himself through the lenses of others. That had been true when he was taken from this home. It had even been true as he sat across from Clarice and admired her through the thick panes of security glass from within his cell.

As beautiful as he believed she was, as enchanting her innocence, she was young… far too young. In Baltimore she _interested_ him but she would need to gain experience to be _intriguing_ to him. His wife…_this_ Clarice…was experienced. She was seasoned…mature…she wore her age well. She was more than intriguing to him now.

Years ago as he sat in Florence and penned the letter he had wished that more of their stars were the same. Now they shared more than just the stars. Together they shared a life. Together they _created_ a life. Hannibal was more than just in love with _this_ Clarice…he was in awe of her.

Clarice had gone directly upstairs to the bedroom as Hannibal requested. He had enough to worry about and she didn't want to add to his troubles so playing the dutiful wife, Clarice rested on their bed tossing and turning. She did not enjoy playing the _dutiful _wife. Without his body to rest on sleep eluded her.

Her husband would be sitting up all night to keep her safe. She was not a woman needing protection. She could take care of herself but she could not comfort herself. She would find no comfort without him. Exhausted, Clarice lifted herself from their bed, slipped on her robe and descended the stairs. She wanted to…no… she needed to hold him.

_Okay, H…you're getting some company and you're just gonna have to deal with it._

Hearing her moving about, Hannibal stood from the desk and quickly moved to the foot of the stairs in wait.

"Clarice why aren't you asleep? It is well past three and not healthy for you to remain awake. You have had far too much excitement tonight. You must rest."

"I can't sleep H…I need you beside me."

Hannibal reached for her hand and held it, guiding her off the steps and onto the main level of the home. "Clarice…I cannot. Though I don't believe our guest will be foolish enough to return tonight, it would not be prudent for me to relax my vigilance. As I told you…I would have you safe at all cost."

Clarice slipped her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his throat where she could see the bump of his pulse just beneath his skin. Her lips slowly eased into a smile as a soft deep sound escaped him. Encouraged by his response she continued to search the flesh with her teeth, nibbling along the surface of his skin. His stronger pulse tapped against her lips as Clarice felt the slight rise in his heart rate. Her husband slightly shifted, turning his body into her allowing her better access.

Hannibal reached for her hips and grasped her tightly to him. He moved against her and tipped his head back, allowing her to search his throat, teasing at the flesh near his jawline. A low rumble rolled in the back of his throat.

Clarice moved from his throat up to his chin all the while shifting her hips against him, his want obvious.

Hannibal captured her mouth kissed her passionately and sliding his strong hands along her back leaving one hand in place to support her shoulders. With the other hand he moved down her spine to the small of her back and over her bottom he reached under her thighs gracefully sweeping her from her feet. He continued to kiss her as he walked with her held securely in his arms.

"Where are you taking me, H?"

"Clarice…I need you to return to sleep. You'll join me on the couch and I will rest with you hoping that my presence will provide enough comfort to allow you to fall asleep."

Clarice kissed him gently. He was making every effort to accommodate her needs and provide her with comfort and reassurance. "I would love that, H…I couldn't stand that you were down here alone."

Clarice had not entered this room earlier and gasped at its opulence. The sofa was platinum and gold in color with a rich embossed pattern on the fabric. Tightly turned golden fringe ringed the deep cushions. It was a two-seat Vimercati Meda Excelsior model with carved, deeply scrolled and gilded wood work. There were two matching chairs, a chaise and several richly carved and gilded side tables. Hannibal did not turn on the lights. The furniture radiated elegance and expense. Clarice hedged.

"No… H…I can't sleep on that sofa. It looks like it cost thousands!"

"I fail to see why that would matter. It is exceedingly comfortable. The cushions and pillows are well supported and stuffed with goose down. You will be more than pleased I assure you."

Hannibal sat on the sofa while still holding Clarice. She stretched across his body with her head on his chest and held him tightly. Hannibal lowered his head to her and kissed her very gently keeping his lips closed to her. There would be time again for passion. It was time now for his wife to sleep.

"Sleep now, my Love. I will rest as well." Hannibal held her head to his chest knowing his beating heart comforted her. He rested a cheek on the top of her head. No pillow had ever provided such comfort.

Clarice reached once more for Hannibal's head and returned his gentle kiss.

"Thanks, H…I don't know where I would be without you."

"I share the sentiment, my Love. Sleep well. We have much to do tomorrow."

"Try to sleep, H…if anyone comes in you'll find him before he finds us."

"You will always be safe in my arms, Clarice. I will die before I let harm come to you or to our child."

He placed a protective hand over her swollen belly, gently massaging it as if rubbing his baby's back.

Clarice closed her eyes and within moments she was sound asleep. Hannibal held her protectively as he stood silent sentry over her resting form. He did not close his eyes for the remainder of the night. He relaxed his body, but did not relax his mind. He sensed a presence outside the home and was certain the individual had returned.

_As long as you remain outside you may live. If you enter and my family is threatened…you will die._

**STALKER**

The stalker walked back and forth in front of the Lecter home. He paced about, trying to decide what to do eventually deciding that it would be best to call Emilia.

Emilia was just exiting the shower when her cell phone began to hum on the bedside table. She rushed to answer it, remembering the earlier call.

"Yes, hello Nico. Have you attended to my work? Have you indeed located the good Doctor?"

The tall man's voice had a flat affect. There was no emotion whatever to his tone.

"Yes. He and his wife made love tonight but I was unable to move on them at that time."

"Why? You had the key and you had my instructions. If your timing was that fortuitous why did you not follow through with the plan?"

"I was moving up the stairs and had determined what room they were in but I heard him say that someone was in the house."

"Where were you at the time?"

"Not even to the top step. He could not have seen me or heard me I was completely silent. I have no idea how he knew I was there. He would have been on me before I reached the room. He knows the home too well I won't be able to surprise him. I'll have to get him somewhere else. What do you want me to do about his wife? It may be easier to accomplish when they are separate."

"You may feel free to accomplish this any way you can though you should know they are rarely separate. As for the woman, you may consider her my gift to you. I have no use for her as she will play no part in my plans. You may do whatever you wish with her or to her. It is of no consequence to me either way. My want is Hannibal and Hannibal alone."

"It will take me some time to formulate a new plan. He is quite perceptive and there is no doubt that he will change the locks and the key will be of no use. I will watch him and I will decide what is best. I must bide my time this man is quite unusual."

"What do you mean…unusual?"

"I truly believe that he may have detected my presence by scent. He is much like an animal, this man… if he is a man at all."

"He is the _Beast_. He is _my_ Beast."

"Soon…Emilia…soon."

**SCARING THE GUESTS**

The next few days Hannibal and Clarice paid very careful attention to the security of their home. Motion sensors were placed on each level and a closed circuit camera system installed. The cameras were mounted and had a remote swivel feature allowing Hannibal and Clarice to rotate the cameras from within the home. The cameras were contained within unbreakable boxes and sensors placed on each camera assembly so that someone on the exterior of the home could not tamper with the box to change the camera's position.

All wires and cables associated with the alarm had been placed within protective pipes and buried. Additional cables had been fully contained within the construction of the home so that they could not accessed and severed. Separate wires were braided within the electrical wires so that an alarm would sound if an attempt was made to breach the system. A fully independent generator was hard wired to the system in the event someone disconnected the electricity in order to deactivate the alarm.

Hannibal spoke with the security professionals at great detail. Every contingency they accounted for, he had four or five additional that he wanted accounted for.

The men were very professional but obviously discomforted by Hannibal. Of the five men working at the Lecter home three could not make eye contact with him at all. The other technician could look at Hannibal but had obviously chosen a point on Hannibal's forehead on which to fixate and would glance at Hannibal's eyes for only a moment or two at a time. The men were polite, but obviously quietly terrified. Hannibal was enjoying the reaction his presence caused and followed them about the house, appearing quietly and at odd times to check on their progress.

Clarice noticed. Seeing how terrified the workers were and also seeing how pleasurable to her husband their fear was, she sought to shift the balance of power slightly for her own amusement.

"Hannibal Lecter, come here. Your wife needs you."

Hannibal's head swiveled away from the workers and to his wife.

_Using my full name? Very unusual for you Clarice and normally not a very good sign for me._

He would reserve judgment until he had more information as he sensed no hostility.

"Yes, my Love? Do you have need of me?" he questioned with no small level of curiosity. He eyed her body language and was frustrated that he could not determine the cause of her irritation.

"Could you make yourself a little less…present? You're terrifying our guests."

"Explain please." he asked quietly. Although he had been enjoying their reaction, he had not sought it. Her response led him to believe she had detected his pleasure in it.

_You are so perceptive… a constant surprise to me. _

"But Clarice…I've done nothing even remotely terrifying."

"Well, not recently but I do believe in this case your reputation has preceded you."

Hannibal looked over to the workers.

They all very quickly shifted their attention to their shoes, shuffling about nervously.

"I cannot change my past, Clarice. Must I hide in my study whenever there are workers present?"

"Come here, kiss your wife and go play piano, H. Leave the men to their work. You've had enough fun for today."

_Enough fun for today…she knew __exactly __what I was doing._

Clarice held her arms out to him. Hannibal moved from the men and to his wife. She rewarded his compliance with a very passionate kiss. His face flushed from the contact and smiling widely Hannibal excused himself.

"Gentleman, ever the dutiful husband I will abide my wife's wishes. Should you need me simply follow the sound of the music. I will leave you to your work."

He turned to his wife. "You know me far too well for my own good, Clarice."

She slapped him playfully on his backside as he passed her. "Yeah, sorry to break up your party… I'll make it up to you later."

"I will hold you to that."

The men were smiling and shifting their eyes to Hannibal. Suddenly they saw him in a different light. He was a husband and like any other happily married man, he deferred lovingly to his wife.

When Hannibal left the room Clarice addressed the workers. "Okay gentlemen, I chased the boogeyman away for you. Get to work."

The lead worker, the only one who had been able to look even momentarily at Hannibal spoke up. He was embarrassed.

"We're sorry, Mrs. Lecter. We've just never met him and we've heard so much…"

"I _know_ what you've heard. How about you worry about what you've seen instead. He's a good man and I love him very much. I take offense when he is mistreated."

The worker who, to Clarice seemed the most terrified in Hannibal's presence muttered something under his breath. He thought only his friends heard him. Unfortunately for him, Clarice would hear as well. "Hey even Hitler had Eva Braun."

The men around him winced, knowing his tone was too loud and that he would be overheard.

Clarice went absolutely insane. "What did you just say? Get the fuck out of my house you son of a bitch before I go into the music room and get my hus…"

Before she could finish her sentence, Hannibal was in the room. No longer genial his maroon eyes blazed anger. He stepped protectively in front of her.

"Clarice?"

"One of the workers was just leaving H."

The man stood quaking in fear. "But we all came in the truck together."

Hannibal glared at the man. "You are the miscreant who upset my wife? You are bold enough to talk out of turn to her yet you don't even have the testicular weight to look at me directly?"

The man turned his terrified eyes up to Hannibal.

"That is much better. Now I suggest you apologize to my lovely wife for whatever action caused her offense."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Lecter. I meant no disrespect."

Hannibal turned to Clarice. "We need this system finished. One less worker this late in the day will make that unlikely. May I allow him to continue or do you find his presence offensive in the extreme? If so, I will be more than happy to drive him home, though as frightened as he appears, I am uncertain whether or not he wants the ride."

_Perhaps you'd like to leave me your home number._

Walking up to the worker Clarice poked a finger in his chest. "You can finish your work day and when you go home you tell your wife that Hannibal Lecter saved your ass today. You might think he's scary but you've never seen me when I go bat shit insane so stay the fuck out of my way."

Clarice stormed out of the room.

"She can be quite formidable!" Hannibal exclaimed proudly. "The most magnificent woman that ever walked the earth and she chose to love me… I am a very lucky man."

The men all nodded in agreement. Right now, Hannibal Lecter seemed far less frightening than Clarice.

Invigorated stretched his arms out widely and Hannibal slapped his hands together boldly.

"Okey-Dokey…Get back to work my friends. There is much to do and very little time in which to do it. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I would like to feel secure in my home for the holidays."

"We'll get it done Doctor Lecter." the lead worker promised.

Hannibal slapped him on the back. "Please…call me Hannibal."

**Until the next chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	45. Chapter 45

**THE QUESTION**

Hannibal had gone shopping to purchase a few fresh items for his Thanksgiving preparations. Thankfully he would not have to concern himself with Clarice's safety. The workers promised not to leave until his return in order to instruct him on the finer points of the security system. They probably would have promised anything to assure a few minutes without the discomfort of Hannibal appearing out of nowhere.

Hannibal was in the produce section choosing bundles of herbs when he spotted a woman eyeing him rather carefully. He searched his periphery to see it was Mrs. Douglass, one of the members of the Baltimore Symphony Board. She had not been invited to attend his _dinner. _

Hannibal spun quickly to see her still staring at him. Nostrils flared he searched the air quickly for fear. Sensing none, with a flourish of his hand he tipped his fedora, bowed at the waist and smiled.

"Mrs. Douglass it is very good to see you. It has been quite some time."

She was taken aback by his gracious greeting. "Hello, Doctor Lecter. I wasn't certain you would remember me. I see you are preparing for the holidays."

He shifted the contents of his basket making a mental note of the items still needed.

"Yes, there are always items that must be purchased last minute to ensure they are fresh."

She smiled. If the truth be told she had always had a bit of a crush on Hannibal. Though she was happily married and her husband was a kind man he didn't have much to offer in the romance department. She had heard whispers between some of the women Hannibal had taken out.

The thought of what they described made her blush even now. Her husband held no sway over her fantasies and Hannibal had always been so attentive that she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with him. Seeing him now she found herself still mesmerized. "Cooking yourself or is your lovely wife preparing the meal?"

Hannibal laughed, "I will be preparing the meal. Clarice is very adept at a great many things however cooking is not among her talents."

The woman was elegant, quite petite and very close in age to Hannibal. She adjusted some items in her cart, obviously wanting to say something but having to work up the nerve to approach it. Taking a deep breath she seemed to have summoned the courage.

"In the past we had always had a very good relationship, Doctor…may I ask you a somewhat direct question?"

He could sense the anxiety and enjoyed it thoroughly. "Certainly and please call me Hannibal."

"Hannibal…" she giggled girlishly as she spoke his name. "…please call me Helena. You may choose not to answer as I am afraid it is rather indelicate, though I would really appreciate it if you would. This question has troubled me over the years. I don't want to offend you."

Hannibal could see the woman was genuinely affected by whatever question was on her mind. He had always found her intelligent and rather charming and wanted to ease her anxiety if at all possible, though not too soon.

Hannibal moved slightly to the side as if concerned at being overheard though he honestly could have cared less who might be listening. It was obvious the topic of the question would be his symphony soiree'.

"Of course I will be more than happy to set your mind at ease if I can. Please feel free to ask anything, I assure you I will not be offended."

The woman leaned forward in order not to be overheard. Hannibal leaned toward her as well, more to sense whether or not she would respond negatively to his proximity. She responded though not in fear. It was more…anticipation, longing. Hannibal smiled knowingly as she posed her question.

"You didn't invite me to your last soiree'. In hind sight I suppose I should thank you as your menu was…well… not to my taste but… I did wonder… why? Did you simply overlook me?"

_A tad jealous not to be invited my dear? How charming._

Hannibal took a very deep breath as he shifted the bundles of herbs in his basket. Although his behavior made it appear as if the question caused him great discomfort, in truth it did not trouble him at all. The fact was that he enjoyed the affect he was having and wished to create a more dramatic atmosphere to enhance the experience. He reached for and took her hand though not for the sake of intimacy. He wanted to feel the increase in her pulse at the contact.

She gasped practically breathless with anticipation.

Hannibal spoke quietly the soothing tone of his voice caressed her ears.

"Shall I be honest with you, Helena?"

He could feel the pounding of her heartbeat at her pulse point when he used her given name. Noticing her response he leaned even closer to her. He could sense her attraction to him and he found it quite endearing.

She whispered to him, her eyes shifting about the aisle nervously as if she were a major player in the middle of a dangerous covert operation.

"Yes…please… Hannibal… it would mean a great deal to me and I promise that your answer will be held in the strictest confidence."

He leaned in making sure his lips almost touched her ear. Again, he could feel her heart pounding. Hannibal was exceedingly amused.

"Do you have any memory of the conversation we had two months prior to the evening of which you speak?"

Hannibal noticed very small beads of perspiration forming on her forehead. Her face was flushed.

_This is fun!_

"Yes I remember it quite well. We commiserated that the musicianship of Mr. Raspail was severely lacking and I promised you that I would bring the matter before the board."

Hannibal slipped his hand up and down her arm and looked into directly into her eyes. "And you did just that, didn't you?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she moved to speak.

"Yes, Hannibal I promised you I would so of course I did. I brought it up at the very next meeting three days after our conversation. Raspail was a terrible player but for reasons that still escape me he had many friends on the board. They wouldn't vote to have him removed."

Hannibal gently lifted her arm to his face and kissed her hand. Helena's cheeks flushed red as she saw a flash of herself reflecting in the deep maroon of his eyes.

"That promise kept to me is the precise reason you were not invited. You were the only person who seemed to find him as distasteful as did I, therefore the lack of an invitation was a courtesy extended to you for the courtesy you extended to me by bringing the matter before the board."

She sighed deeply emitting a long held exhalation of relief, "And all these years I thought you just overlooked me."

"Never Helena, believe me when I say that you are far too fine a woman to have ever been overlooked. If I am not being too indelicate had you not already been married you would not have had to wonder how I felt about you as I would have been exceedingly direct. The lack of an invitation was a gesture of gratitude and respect. As you stated so eloquently, I did not believe my menu would be suited to your refined tastes."

Hannibal released her hand and bowed. "If you will excuse me I must be getting back home to begin my preparations. Please give my best to your family and enjoy your Thanksgiving."

"Thank you Hannibal. My best to your wife as well…she is a _very_ lucky woman."

"That is very kind of you to say. I will pass along your good wishes. Incidentally I purchased tickets to the Symphony's holiday concert. Will I be seeing you there?"

"Yes, of course as well as many of the other Board Members. There has been little change over the years."

"I am certain they will not be as gracious as you have been. I will undoubtedly be most unwelcome."

"All the more reason to come." she said with a rather devious grin.

"My sentiments exactly…it has been a pleasure, Mrs. Douglass."

He kissed her hand a final time and excused himself leaving the woman feeling quite pleased with the interaction and thrilled with his answer to the question that had haunted her. Hannibal mused that with the level of pheromones churning from Helena he thought that her husband might be treated to a little romance.

Hannibal quickly grabbed the remaining items and headed home driving his BMW retrieved earlier from the garage.

**THE INTRODUCTION **

Nico had not been aware to look out for an additional car and had not considered that Hannibal might be out. Seeing the Mustang already parked, he believed the couple to be in the home. When Hannibal's headlights turned the corner and moved to the front of the house, Nico quickly moved his vehicle to the opposite side of the street.

As Hannibal exited his vehicle his heart started to hammer within his chest. His senses had obviously picked up on something that consciously he had not. He searched the area to identify why his body was reacting so strongly. He stepped out of the car and caught the foul stench.

_Where are you? I can smell you…where are you hiding?_

Hannibal's eyes searched the darkness. It was autumn and the sun now set much earlier. He closed his car door, locked it and moved forward until he was standing in the middle of the street. He lifted his chin and allowed his nostrils to search, inhaling deeply to draw in the crisp November air.

Nico watched Hannibal's movement with great curiosity.

_He sniffs at the air like a wolf. Not fully a man_…_not fully an animal. I have no worries. I am __all__ animal._

Nico was not afraid of Hannibal but he was curious.

_If I use the correct bait…I can draw the wolf in_.

A strong breeze carried the scent to Hannibal. As soon as the repugnant odors entered his nasal passages his eyes shifted to Nico's car. Hannibal charged at the vehicle, reached into his pocket and extracted his Harpy.

Nico's eyes caught sight of the blade. Still there was no fear.

_What will you do with that pathetic blade…scratch the paint on my car? _

Hannibal took the Harpy and hooked the blade at the stem of Nico's car tire. As the tire's air vented furiously into the night Hannibal folded the knife slipped it into his pocket, balled up his fist and punched through the passenger side window. Blood and glass exploded into the car.

Surprised by the aggression Nico reached for the shift in an attempt to engage the transmission.

Hannibal reached into the car grasped Nico's throat and clawed at the larynx attempting to tear out the fibrous structure.

The stalker slammed his foot and forced the gas pedal to the floor causing the wheels of the car to smoke and spin. He released the brake and Hannibal, feeling the car surge forward was forced to release the man's throat and grab the side of the door.

Nico hit the gas and the car jumped forward with Hannibal hanging on to the outside of the car. When he was certain he could safely release without being dragged or pulled under the car he let go. Hannibal's body hit the street with a crushing thud. His shoulder struck first, the force of the impact knocked the wind out of him. Slowly he drew himself to his knees, doubled over and gasping for breath. His ribs aching from the contact it took several minutes for Hannibal's body to gather enough air to slow his breathing.

When he was certain that he had composed himself enough to enter his home, Hannibal carried the groceries and went inside.

Clarice greeted him at the door saw the look in his eyes and immediately understood.

"H? Should I be worried?"

"No my Love…he's gone now."

Hannibal approached to the security personnel and allowed them to teach him how to operate the system. He tested his knowledge quickly and when he was certain he could arm and disarm the system, he thanked them for their efforts. Clarice showed the men out. When she returned to Hannibal she saw his bloodied hand.

"H? What the hell did you do?" Clarice asked as she checked the rest of his body for injuries.

"I introduced myself, Clarice that is all…I introduced myself."

Nico was forced to leave quickly as the tire would not hold long. He parked several blocks from the Lecter household and put the spare on the car. He would have the window replaced soon.

_You have a temper when defending what is yours? That will make this easy for me…you have shown me your weakness and I have shown you nothing. I will move on you soon Doctor Lecter…or should I say I will move on your wife soon. To save her from me…you will give yourself to Emilia…willingly. _

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	46. Chapter 46

**GIVING THANKS- PART ONE**

Hannibal had been awake much of the night preparing what he believed based on his research of the customary foods would be a traditional thanksgiving feast with a slight Italian flair. He was very enthusiastic about the event and wanted everything to be as she would expect. It was the first holiday he would be sharing with Clarice and for her sake Hannibal would have it perfect.

_A contented wife makes for a happy life and Clarice with a full belly is very contented._

Hannibal had already showered and dressed for the day, his suit jacket the only item remaining. He would not add that until just before his guests arrived when he would remove the apron protecting his shirt and tie. It wouldn't do to have turkey drippings accessorizing Gucci. He busied himself with basil for his Bolognese sauce. He had prepared the fresh pasta the night previous. Everything was going as planned. Their first holiday together would be perfection.

Clarice descended the stairs to the wonderful scents emanating from the kitchen. She was beaming as she entered the room, pony tail bouncing happily behind her. Hannibal looked up as she entered the room, her face bright as the sun that shone upon it. He found himself transfixed, staring at the way the morning rays beaming through the window highlighted her hair.

Clarice approached Hannibal wearing a deeply cut and cleavage flattering halter style emerald dress. Hannibal had imagined it would be flattering but he never imagined it would be jaw-dropping. She looked absolutely stunning.

Seeing him blankly staring slack jawed and in utter awe of her beauty Clarice waved a hand in front of his face. The loose bracelets on her arm jingled together from the motion.

"H? You can blink now."

Hannibal shook his head as if the movement cleared his thoughts.

"My apologies, my Love I was spellbound by your beauty. You look radiant. Did you sleep well?"

"I did H thanks. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to wake up to your cooking. It smells like heaven in here!"

"Thank you for the compliment. It is my hope you will find the taste as appealing as the aromas."

"I know it will be perfect. You wouldn't settle for less. What time are the guests arriving?"

"Our guests will be arriving at three. There will be several courses so I hope you have your usual appetite. I consider it a personal challenge to fill you to capacity today."

"Don't be such a wise ass!" Clarice slipped seductively behind Hannibal wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly resting her cheek on his back. She felt his ribs expand with each inhalation.

"I love to listen to you breathe."

"Why is that I wonder?"

"I don't know…it's comforting. You breathe much more deeply than I do. It reminds me to slow myself and relax more. You're so much more than people know…there is a peace about you that surprises me sometimes."

"No more than it surprises me…You have brought me that peace Clarice."

"No, even at Baltimore State, you seemed at peace."

"No Clarice. I was not at peace. I was in wait…much like a snake coils itself preparing to strike. I was still but I was never at peace. I found that in your arms. You are my salvation." he placed a comforting hand over her clasped hands still holding him.

Clarice did not need to see the smile crossing his face or the sparkling twinkle in his bright maroon eyes to know he was happy. She didn't need him to tell her either. The deep sigh she felt him release the moment she wrapped her arms around him said more than mere words could have.

"So what are we having, H? Or is your menu a secret?" Clarice asked as she picked at some of the almonds Hannibal was now currently toasting and popped them into her mouth.

"As you are aware I hold no secrets from you Clarice. We will begin with a traditional Italian antipasto, homemade manicotti with a Bolognese sauce followed by the main course of roasted turkey with traditional gravy, stuffed with a sausage, onion and wild mushroom dressing."

"What else? You've got a lot more than that around the kitchen. Where do the almonds come in?"

"The side dishes will include maple braised butternut squash, classic mashed potatoes, roasted sweet potatoes with a walnut streusel topping, freshly made cranberry sauce, green beans with toasted almonds, corn bread coming out of the oven momentarily with fresh yeast rolls to follow. With dessert we will have the choice of coffee, espresso, cappuccino, or tea."

"What about dessert?" she asked, as she placed a trail of kisses along his back. He rolled his shoulders in response. There was a deep hum of satisfaction from her husband as her lips touched his body through the silk of his shirt.

"I have no idea as Ardelia will be providing the dessert. She was quite insistent which led me to believe she was not entirely happy that I am preparing the meal. I therefore deferred to her expertise in the area of baking as she has quite an assortment of pies in her repertoire. I believe she will provide impressive additions to our menu."

Clarice moved her hands up and down kneading Hannibal's muscles across the breadth of his chest to the center ridges of his pectorals.

He shifted from one foot to the other struggling with his self-control. His wife had learned well how to elicit this response and grinned with satisfaction at the knowledge that he was becoming so uncomfortable.

_Getting a rise out of you, am I H? Oh, you are too easy!_

"What about the wine?" she asked slipping her hands into the front pockets of his pants and sliding them forward to his hips.

Hannibal shifted again and cleared his throat as he tossed the almonds quickly in the pan.

"Lloyd and Barney have each volunteered to bring wine, Barney white and Lloyd red."

She reached forward and gripped his hips pulling him tightly against her body. Though she made certain not to touch him directly, she could feel his anatomy straining against his trousers. Smiling inwardly, Clarice ignored his obvious arousal and continued to make small talk, "You actually mean to tell me _you_ deferred to someone else for the _wine _selection?"

Hannibal bent forward slightly and though his discomfort was obvious he would not concede by asking her to stop. Clarice's ear centered on her husband's back and told her of his quickening heart rate. She also perceived that his respirations deepened as he attempted to reign in his autonomic responses.

His voice was rough with desire, "Clarice, it would be rude of me to insert myself when someone offers to contribute to the meal. I am certain that our friends will make well considered selections. I also have a wine cellar at our disposal should consumption continue throughout the evening."

She pulled her hands from his pockets reached around his body across his abdomen, and massaged from his hips to his thighs and across his backside careful to avoid touching him in any area that might be _sensitive_. She seductively whispered her next question over his shoulder, "So you've thought of everything?"

He was having difficulty concentrating therefore his response was uncharacteristically clipped, "Yes…everything."

His physical needs overwhelming him he now had an urgent need to hold his wife thus Hannibal interrupted his food preparation. Clarice's arms were still around him so he lifted his left arm above her head and spun within her embrace until her face rested not on his back but now on his chest.

She laughed as he bent over, grabbed her firmly by the waist, lifted her and turned himself to sit her on the marble countertop. Hannibal quickly separated her knees and fluidly moved to her so that he would be fully against her body placing her arms around his neck. There was no denying how much he wanted her. She loved the power she could wield whenever the mood struck her. Teasing him gave her tremendous satisfaction. In his arms she felt attractive and desired. She had never found that confidence before Hannibal.

"Feeling a little lonely, H?" she teased, gripping him with her thighs and pulling him tighter to her body.

"Mmmm, if you continue to encourage me in that manner Clarice, there is no doubt the meal will not be my priority much longer."

"Screw the meal H, take me upstairs."

"Clarice…" he buried his face in her neck and teased at the flesh with his teeth. He growled against her flesh, the rumble of his vocalizations sent shivers through her body. He nuzzled against her warm flesh inhaling the scent specific to his Clarice.

Clarice slapped her husband very playfully on the back and feigned protest, "Oh God H…that tickles… stop!" laughing uncontrollably.

Hannibal lifted her from the counter, her arms around his neck, her thighs wrapped tightly around his waist. He carried her from the kitchen to the family room just on the other side of the large formal dining room, the table already set for dinner.

Her face was tucked against his chest in disappointment, "Why are you bringing me here? I wanted to go to the bedroom!"

"Clarice, I want you more than I am capable of expressing however we have guests set to arrive and though you are a most welcome distraction, you remain a distraction nonetheless."

He placed her very gently on the couch reached for the remote and turned on the television. He flipped through the channels until he came to the program he was seeking. The coverage of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade televised live from New York.

"I hear on good authority that this is traditional viewing on Thanksgiving morning. You will know when it has concluded as I have been told by my good friend Logan that Santa Claus is the final guest. Enjoy."

He kissed her and very quickly moved to the door before temptation drove him back into her arms.

"Go ahead, run you coward!" she exclaimed as she hefted a pillow at him in protest. An afterthought, "H, speaking of Logan is he coming with Ardelia?"

Hannibal replaced the pillow and answered calmly, "Yes and he is quite concerned about a particular American football game. It appears the Cowboys of Dallas will be taking the field. I assured our friend that he could access the television here in the family room at his discretion. It is my distinct impression that it will be a covert operation as he does not want Ardelia made aware."

Clarice chuckled at the thought of Logan getting anything by Ardelia.

"He's not going to sneak that past her. She doesn't miss a trick."

Hannibal was distracted, momentarily watching the parade as he spoke, "I thought not but hadn't the heart to tell him."

"Unless he has tiny televisions mounted on the inside of his eyelids that poor bastard is going to miss the game!"

Hannibal laughed at the visual Clarice's comment elicited. His eyes twinkled with a devious glint of mischief whenever he was amused. Seeing that boyish spark of glittering maroon in Hannibal's eyes made Clarice feel the want to gather him in her arms and never let him go. The love of him radiated in her voice, "I love it when you laugh, H. You don't do it enough."

"I have had little cause in my life to laugh Clarice, though when I am with you I am exceedingly happy. I will make more of an effort."

Clarice smiled, "I love you, H."

Hannibal smiled as well, "I love you more, Clarice."

Satisfied with her new family life and secure in the love of her husband Clarice watched the parade with more pleasure than she had since her early childhood.

Hannibal returned to the kitchen thrilled with his position as head of his family excited to be hosting friends for his first holiday. He whistled Scarlatti as he finished his dinner preparations.

Clarice made a mental note to speak to Ardelia about the incident with Hannibal and the possibility that they may have a stalker to contend with. She would ask Ardelia to run the plates and a description of the vehicle. The vehicle parked two blocks up the road and across the street.

Nico did not believe in family. He did not believe in giving thanks. He _did_ believe in giving pain.

Pain is an exquisite teacher.

Hannibal would have lessons to learn.

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	47. Chapter 47

**GIVING THANKS: PART TWO**

Hannibal welcomed the guests and directed them to the dining room where Clarice played the role of hostess.

The table was set with everything needed for the meal. Hannibal served the antipasto and wine was being poured.

Barney spoke quietly, "Excuse me, I don't know what the protocol is…would it be appropriate for someone at the table to offer a blessing? It is Thanksgiving after all."

Clarice shifted her eyes to Hannibal, "It's your call, H."

Hannibal stood. "If you would indulge me…I am feeling a bit sentimental and would like to offer the blessing first in my mother's native language. I will then translate." he bowed his head and spoke very softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "Benedici, Signore, noi e questi tuoi doni, che stiamo per ricevere dalla tua generosita per Christo nostro Signore." He glanced up for a moment, "This would loosely translate to, Bless us Lord for these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen."

Hannibal quietly crossed himself more the thought of his mother on his mind than a specific religious act.

The group spoke collectively, "Amen."

Clarice never took her eyes off her husband. He saw her astonishment as well as that of the other guests.

"I did tell you I was Catholic, Clarice."

"Yeah, but I didn't know it took!" she replied with no small measure of incredulity.

Hannibal's tone was quietly reverent, "My mother was quite devout."

"The blessing was really well done, Hannibal." Ardelia commented respectfully.

Logan raised his glass to offer a cheerful toast, "To our friends and what smells like a really awesome dinner…happy thanksgiving everyone."

Again, collectively the group responded in kind bringing their glasses together in the center of the table, "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Clarice was smiling widely, obviously thrilled.

Hannibal noticed.

The dutiful chef spent the next hour moving back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room enthusiastically serving. They took a small break between the manicotti and the turkey to follow, the wine flowed freely.

Hannibal nodded to Lloyd, Barney and Logan, "Gentleman if you would assist me in the kitchen, I could use a few extra hands to bring out the next course. There are several covered dishes that must be circulated. I would like the women to relax for a few moments."

The men looked confused but stood to follow Hannibal into the kitchen. When Logan caught sight of Hannibal's intention, he ran across the room embraced and lifted Hannibal briefly off his feet.

Suddenly aware that this was probably a tremendous breach in etiquette, Logan set him down and brushed off Hannibal's suit. "Sorry Dude. I'm just so damned excited! You are my freaking hero!"

Logan rushed over to the large television Hannibal moved into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast counter. Barney was equally thrilled and patted Hannibal on the back. "You're a hell of a host, Doctor. You don't miss a trick!"

Lloyd stood beside Hannibal. Logan searched the kitchen for his sidekick, "Hey, Bowmeister! C'mon sit up here with me…unless you want to go back and hang out with the women?"

Lloyd rolled his eyes, "No, I don't want to sit with the women. I like football!"

"Good man, Lloyd." Barney responded kindly, knowing Lloyd was more than a little out of his element.

Hannibal began to clear the dishes and stack them in the dishwasher preparing for the next course.

Clarice used the brief respite from the men to talk to Ardelia. She did not want Hannibal involved in the conversation.

"Delia, I wanted to talk to you about what's been going on here over the last two days. We've got a bit of a situation on our hands and I wanted you to look into it for me."

Ardelia didn't like the sound of that and she leaned forward, her tone and expression questioning, "What exactly do you mean a situation…between you and Hannibal?"

Clarice was confused then incredulous, "What? God no! H and I are fine…more than fine. There's been some freak associated with one of Hannibal's less than scrupulous lovers hanging around. Hannibal thinks he was in the house two days ago."

Ardelia's concern was evident in her tone, "If Hannibal believed someone had gotten into the house why didn't you call the cops?"

Clarice shook her head, "Couldn't…no evidence. We would have sounded freaking crazy."

Ardelia didn't understand, "Then how did Hannibal know someone was in the house."

Clarice paused, she wasn't certain Ardelia would believe her. She kept her tone low so as not to be overheard, "Hannibal caught his scent in the house."

"He can smell people?" Ardelia was more than shocked, "What is he part fucking blood hound? No wonder you didn't call D.C.P.D. No one who doesn't know him would believe that was even possible for a human."

"You believe me though, right?" Clarice was concerned that Ardelia would her, "He can not only smell people…he can detect their mood from the changes in the scent. Like fear or danger. He doesn't sense fear from this man…he senses danger."

"Of course, I'd believe anything you told me about Hannibal. He's like a frigging wolf or something. It's creepy and cool at the same time. I bet that was scary though, especially if you didn't sense anything out of the ordinary. Did you see any sign of forced entry?"

"No, nothing… I almost didn't believe him but when he had a run in with the guy I saw him. He's tall I'd day about six foot two or three, big guy…muscular with really long glossy black hair and dark eyes."

"Race? Age?"

"Looks to be in his mid-thirties but his race is hard to describe…he has a very ethnic look…not white and not exactly Hispanic…more native than that…my closest guess would be Indian."

"What kind of Indian… dot or feather?"

"Feather…Native American…no…more almost…Aztec, kind of attractive in a really distinctive way. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I can picture that. Do you have a description of a vehicle… plates?"

"I was too far away to see it but I'm sure H got a quick glance at it."

"I know he has that freakish memory so I probably don't have to ask this but did he write the plate numbers down somewhere?"

"Dee, he just remembered a freaking prayer in another language that hasn't crossed his lips in almost sixty years. I don't think remembering six or seven digits that he saw on a car just yesterday will be any problem for him. I'll just ask him and email it to you."

Hannibal and the men returned to the dining room with guilty smiles on their faces having watched just enough of the game to take them to half time. The men quickly carried covered dishes filled with food to the table. Hannibal carried the turkey to the antique sideboard and began masterfully carving the bird. Lloyd, Barney and Logan began circulating the dishes, serving the women and themselves.

Lloyd admired Hannibal's expertise carving the turkey. "You carve quite well, Sir. It really is a lost art!"

A devious smile crossed Hannibal's face, his voice playful, "Had you not heard? I am quite adept with a knife, Lloyd."

Lloyd smiled, just a little embarrassed at the reference. When everyone at the table laughed, relieved he joined in and enjoyed the joke as well, "Yes, Sir…so I've heard."

**THE OUTSIDER**

Nico sat in his car and watched. He needed to learn if the couple had any specific habits or daily routines. It would serve him well to find out if they followed a schedule at all. Knowing a complex security system had been installed he had lost the opportunity and would not be able to get to Hannibal at home. Nico now needed to learn as much as he could about the pair. Any information no matter how insignificant could prove important.

_More information, Doctor…you have friends. I will learn of them as well._

Nico exited his car and strolled up and down in front of the Lecter home with impunity. He copied in a small notebook the makes and models of the cars along with the license plate numbers. In the notebook he personally described each of the individuals and which car they exited.

_You never know when such information will come in handy._

Hannibal's next door neighbor Mr. Warden walked his dog back and forth in front of his home. The tiny dog was a black and white male French bulldog with ears set high and wide giving the animal the appearance of a bat. Mr. Warden watched the outsider very closely, obviously wary of the man. He pulled at his jacket protectively, gathering the fabric of the coat tightly under his chin.

Feeling vulnerable he silently wished his dog was larger.

The outsider saw the man considering him carefully and locked eyes with him, assessing if the elderly gentleman shaking in the cold posed any danger to him.

_You are but an old man…you cannot harm me. You are probably more afraid of the wolf that lives next door to you than you are of me. You are no danger. Run back to your home old man!_

When the tiny bulldog emptied his bladder Mr. Warden hurried the small animal up the steps of his home to watch the threat from the safety of his front parlor window.

**DESSERT**

Again, the men hurried into the kitchen carrying whatever dishes Hannibal directed.

Logan was the most eager volunteer balancing all manner of plates and bowls in his arms and across the expanse of his chest. He was far too enthusiastic, "C'mon these dishes aren't going to wash themselves…Bowmeister, Barnstormer, to the kitchen!"

Laughing, Barney rolled his eyes and with Lloyd carried the rest of the items to the kitchen.

Clarice watched her husband carefully, "Hannibal?"

He stopped and lowered his head upon hearing his full name. He did not turn to face her, "Yes, Clarice?"

"What's the score?" she asked, letting him know that she was on to him.

Again, he did not face her, "The Washington Redskins had been twenty points ahead but the Cowboys are currently surging. I believe they will be victorious. They have a player, Emmitt Smith and he is having great success. Logan and Barney are cheering for Dallas. Lloyd seems to favor Washington. Lloyd will most assuredly be disappointed."

Ardelia laughed, "He's used to it. Disappointment might as well be Lloyd's middle name!"

Hannibal turned slowly to face the women. "Are either of you angry with me? I tried to strike a balance in order to accommodate everyone's needs."

Clarice confessed, "Please, H…we've known about it since the first trip into the kitchen."

Ardelia agreed laughing out loud, "Yeah, Logan doesn't do dishes. He just goes out and buys more." Ardelia laughed.

"Go play with your buddies, H…we'll take a break before dessert."

"Thank you, ladies. I will let the men know they need no longer silence their cheers. No doubt they will be much more vocal. With that in mind, I have no idea as to whether or not I _should_ be thanking you."

Hannibal returned to the kitchen and told the men they were welcome to watch the game until service of the dessert course. Cheers resounded.

Hannibal stood at the sink and cleared more dishes. He had a thought, remembering his elderly neighbors next door. He had seen Mr. and Mrs. Warden shuffling up and down the block walking their tiny dog. Mrs. Warden was extremely debilitated. There is no way she could have prepared a Thanksgiving meal. Hannibal packed enough of each course to feed the pair for several meals.

He walked into the dining room with the food packaged.

"Clarice, would you excuse me for a moment. I would like to bring some food to the neighbors next door. They are elderly and I fear they haven't the capacity to prepare a sufficient holiday meal."

Clarice smiled, she hadn't even thought of it and it was a little embarrassing to her, "Sure, H. That's really thoughtful…be careful…for my sake."

Hannibal smiled at his wife, "Always, Clarice…always."

Hannibal opened the front door and locked it behind him. He walked quickly to the neighbor's home. He searched the air for the scent…it was faint.

_You have been here…today._

He passed a finger over the Harpy to be certain it was still safely tucked within the fold of his French cuff and knocked on the door of the Warden's home.

The old man peeked through the window of the front door. His wife was sitting in a small rocking chair. Her voice was weak with disease, "Who is at the door, Walter?"

"It is the Doctor," the terrified old man replied.

"Why did you call the Doctor?" she asked, not understanding what was happening. She was confused by the terror in her husband's eyes. "Why do you look so afraid?"

Walter turned to his wife of sixty years, the fear beaming from him, "Not our Doctor…_the Doctor_...Hannibal Lecter is at the door!"

Unlike her husband, the old woman had read the newspaper coverage of Hannibal's sentence commutation. She had seen the news conferences. She had seen the Doctor's pregnant wife the day they returned to their home, "Open the door, Walter. He was always very good to us before he got sent to jail and he is our neighbor. He may need our help, he has a pregnant wife."

Trembling as he tried to unlatch the small chain barricading the door, Walter opened the door to Hannibal. His voice shook with fear, "Hello Doctor Lecter what can I do for you?"

Hannibal smiled and with all the gentleness he could bring to his voice, sought to calm the terror he sensed from the man, "Good Evening, Mr. Warden. My dear spouse asked that I deliver dinner to you and your lovely wife. She would have come herself but alas she is with child and grows tired this time of day."

Mrs. Warden stood very slowly and waved Hannibal over, "Please, Doctor…set the food down and come to me. My eyes are not what they once were and I would like to thank you properly."

Hannibal set the packages down carefully and moved across the room. He was surprised not to sense fear from the woman. She opened her arms to him, offering a hug in thanks.

Hannibal bent to Mrs. Warden and accepted her embrace. Her voice was filled with affection, "Thank you, Hannibal. You are still the gentleman I remember. Bringing food to your old neighbors…your mother would be proud of you."

Hannibal's heart sped slightly at the mention of his mother's pride, "Thank you, that is kind of you to say. If you will excuse me as much as I would love to stay and visit, our guests remain."

Hannibal embraced the woman, this time with much more affection, "If you are ever in need..."

"May I walk you out, Doctor?" the older gentleman escorted Hannibal outside to the front porch of his home, "Hannibal, there was a strange man watching your house today. Please be very careful. He looked dangerous."

Hannibal nodded, "Yes, I believe I know the man you speak of. I will be on the alert, thank you."

"Thank you, Doctor," the elderly man expressed, his eyes moist with thanks, "What you did for my wife and I…it was very thoughtful. That is the way I remember you. From before…you had always been kind to us."

Hannibal nodded, "Thank you, …you have no idea how much that means to me. I was not certain I would be entirely welcome."

The old man gripped Hannibal's arm at the elbow, "You will always be welcome here."

_Your mother would be proud of you… _the old woman's words rattled Hannibal.

Again, suddenly the scent of the outsider on the air.

_Where are you? I know you are near…_

Hannibal's eyes shifted to the street. A car drove by with the windows rolled down. As it passed, Hannibal could smell the scent of the man as he passed. He watched until the car turned the corner.

Hannibal Lecter returned to his wife unaware that within the week, Nico would return. Hannibal and Clarice would too soon be parted.

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	48. Chapter 48

**THANKSGIVING AND BEYOND**

Clarice and Hannibal returned to the dining room after walking their guests to the door. Clarice circled the table dragging her index finger along the linen cloth. Hannibal watched her carefully and wondered what she was thinking. When a cheerful smile crossed her face he knew.

_She is happy. It has been quite an exceptional day._

Tremendously satisfied, Hannibal carried the last of the dishes to the kitchen.

Intensely happy, Clarice followed. "H, I just wanted to thank you. Today was so wonderful! I can't remember ever having a holiday that special…not even when I was young. You put so much effort…it was unbelievable." She stood behind him and deeply massaged his deltoid muscles. He groaned his appreciation. His body was stressed from a plentiful day's effort and a not so plentiful night's sleep.

Hannibal placed the dishes in the sink turned to his wife and took her in his arms. His exhaustion was evident in his voice which was not as robust, "There is no need to thank me, Clarice. I want nothing more than to make you feel special. It brings me great pleasure to see you happy."

She held him close and squeezed him tightly. "Still…you amaze me. I'm lucky to have you."

Hannibal sighed, "I am the lucky one, Clarice. Now it is very late, my Love. I will take care of the last of the dishes. Please go upstairs and ready yourself for bed. I have but a few things to finish here. I'll be along presently."

Clarice suppressed a yawn, "I didn't do anything but eat and I'm exhausted!" I don't know how you do it H…I really don't."

Hannibal turned her around so that her back rested against his chest. He encircled her with his arms and held her belly with both hands. He set his chin over her shoulder gently touching his cheek to hers, his voice… a satin whisper in her ear. "You have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow. You must be well rested."

Clarice was in no mood for an appointment with the obstetrician but she truly had put it off far too long already. "What time do we have to leave? I hope you didn't make the appointment at some ungodly hour."

Hannibal's amusement was evident in the timber of his voice, "The appointment is at ten thirty. Not too early and not too late so no complaints from you. You have stalled long enough. We are fortunate your primary care physician agreed to prescribe your pre-natal vitamins. I will take you to brunch after the appointment. That will give you something to look forward to."

Smoothing his hands over the curve of her belly his loving tone hummed in her ear, "Off to bed my Love. The baby rests with you."

She turned her head up and reached back for him seeking his lips. Hannibal lowered his head to her and kissed her gently. "Don't take too long H…I can't sleep without you."

Hannibal watched with pride as his wife took her leave.

_You are perfection Clarice._

The proud husband and father- to- be returned to the sink to finish cleaning the remainder of the holiday dishes. It had been many years since he had been a part of a family. He had not realized how great his loss had been until this moment as his thoughts were on his growing family. On the love he felt not only for Clarice but also for the child she carried. He imagined what it might be like to finally hold his son or daughter in his arms. The thought of it made a wide smile spontaneously spread across his face, his happiness reflected in the shine of his small white teeth.

_Soon little one…we shall see each other soon._

A joyful and contented man, Hannibal whistled Brahms... a lullaby to the child he had yet to meet, had never wished for, yet now so desperately wanted.

**THE PREPARATIONS**

Emilia's flight arrived several hours later than scheduled, delayed due to inclement weather. The storm seemed to foreshadow the dark deeds that had been so diligently set into motion. She did not take a cab to the hotel but traveled to the house rented for her dubious purposes. Far too excited, she needed to see what arrangements had already been made. Nico answered the door before she had the opportunity to knock as if some supernatural force bade him to it.

Emilia stood across the threshold making no move forward, waiting to be asked inside. Nico had no such compunction toward propriety. He left her for the moment to stand outside in the cold and suffer his indignancy.

"Your plan was to go directly to your hotel. Why have you changed the arrangements we agreed to?" Nico was obviously not pleased, "This is disruptive to my preparations. I have quite a lot to do and must have everything in place. I will move on him soon."

She looked past him, attempting to see what was occurring within. He stepped in front of her and blocked her view.

Emilia was curious, it reflected in her voice, "How will you take him? He will resist."

"I will not take him. He will leave with us willingly. He will beg for us to leave with him but you must let me finish my work. When the pain begins he will not want to stay in my company. The restraints must be secure. He has the instincts of an animal. He will fight the moment he understands our intentions."

Emilia bowed slightly but moved forward. She would enter the home. Her voice was direct, "Excuse me please, Nico. I am far too excited and must see what you have prepared. I have been planning this for quite some time and at no small cost. You will indulge me."

Begrudgingly, Nico stepped aside and allowed Emilia to pass into the foyer. His voice was monotone, "The room I have planned for your wolf is down the hall. It will suit our purposes. I have insulated the walls and covered the windows. No one will see his agony and no one will hear him scream. The pleasure will be yours."

The pair walked silently down the long hallway. Nico stood outside a specific room, swung the abnormally heavy door open and gestured for Emilia to enter.

Nico's voice absent of inflection had an odd rhythm and was off putting, "You will see…it is so very near complete…it is almost time."

There was nothing in the room aside from the thick padding covering the ceiling, every surface of every wall and completely blocking each window. The only light from the room came from a large construction style halogen spot light. It was glaring directly on a large autopsy style metal table with handcuffs at four restraint points and three large leather straps located at the waist, head and neck.

Nico entered the room and tracked his hand along the channels running on the outside edges of the table.

"This is where is blood will flow. You can collect it if you wish. It will collect in the drain at the bottom of the table set between his legs. If you do not wish his blood I will dispose of it."

Emilia admired the streamlined table. It had been secured to the hardwood flooring with heavy metal brackets, the brackets having the ability to be unhinged in order to roll the table if necessary. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she spoke, "I am paying you dearly my friend. You must listen to me and prepare yourself well. My Hannibal is very strong willed…It will be difficult for you but I _will_ hear his cries."

"I will break him…it will be no challenge. He his small and older than I anticipated he would be. I expected a monster. I am not impressed."

"He is smaller than he used to be. So much less than he was before. He was glorious and that woman has emasculated him. With your help I will restore him but do not let his appearance deceive you. He remains a dangerous and unpredictable man."

"He has a wife that he loves very much. That makes him a very predictable man. I have no such entanglements…no such weaknesses. He will soon find out that I am a dangerous and unpredictable man."

**BEDTIME**

Hannibal climbed the stairs slowly. His body ached. He needed rest.

Clarice was in their bed lingering in the twilight just before dreams.

Hannibal paused for a moment, sitting on the edge of the bed watching until she fully surrendered to slumber. He touched his hand on her shoulder and ran his fingertips down across her collarbone and over the curve of her breast.

The heat in his belly surged as his palm passed over the firm peak of her breast. He let his hand fall across her swollen abdomen.

_Happy Thanksgiving, my Love._

Exhausted, Hannibal dropped his arm over his wife's waist and kissed her swollen belly. He meant only to rest for a moment, placing his head on the hollow of her hip. Unable to fight off exhaustion, Hannibal fell asleep listening to his child moving in Clarice's womb.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	49. Chapter 49

**APPOINTMENTS KEPT**

Hannibal and Clarice waited patiently in the obstetrician's office. Clarice was anxious though not for reasons most women might be. She actually saw little need for this physician. Hannibal was a man of many gifts. Working the emergency room at Misericordia he delivered several babies, often times under emergency circumstances. She failed to see what this individual offered that her husband could not.

Hannibal sat quietly beside his wife his legs crossed and tapped his steepled index fingers gently against his lips. Simultaneously he considered the questions he might have for the physician, assessed the room temperature in relation to his wife's comfort and planned the evening meal.

"Are you quite comfortable Clarice? If you need something to warm you I can return to the car and retrieve your sweater."

Clarice placed a grateful hand on his thigh. "No, H…pregnant women are like furnaces. That's probably why they keep the thermostat lower."

"I believe when you remove your clothing and put on the paper gown they will no doubt provide your comfort might decrease considerably."

"No thanks H, I'm good."

Hannibal's focus shifted to a young boy he judged to be five or six years old leaning against his mother's leg. He was obviously curious about Hannibal and had not yet decided whether he should afraid. The boy's deep brown eyes were locked on Hannibal's flaming maroon irises. Hannibal smiled at the boy. The boy smiled and waved.

Hannibal waved.

Feeling brave the boy took two small steps away from his mother, careful to keep one hand in contact with her leg. The mother was speaking to another woman also waiting to be seen.

"What is your name young man?" Hannibal asked, heartened that the boy's inquisitive nature trumped his fear.

"Christopher…Christopher Hallett. What's yours?"

"Hannibal…Hannibal Lecter."

The boy smiled when he heard the name as it had a funny sound and his young heart felt no fear from it.

The boy's mother did not smile though to her credit she did not tear the child back to her either. The concerned mother's eyes covertly lifted from the magazine as she listened carefully and watched the exchange intently.

The boy reached out offering his hand and seeking Hannibal's. Hannibal took the young boy's hand and shook it very gently.

"I am very pleased to meet you." the boy spoke this sentence very distinctly with carefully pronounced syllables illustrating that this greeting had been practiced often.

"I am very pleased to meet you as well, Christopher Hallett. You are a very unusual boy…quite the young gentleman. Your mother has taught you well."

"Thank you. You have red eyes. When you look through them is everything red?"

Hannibal smiled at the innocence of the question posed and in explanation returned a question, "What color are your eyes, Christopher?"

"My eyes are brown." he stated in a disappointed tone as if now knowing maroon was possible, his own eye color was no longer preferred.

Seeing a teachable moment Hannibal spoke softly, "When you look through your brown eyes can you see only brown or do you see many other colors?"

"I see all colors." he stated proudly.

"I see all of the colors as well." Hannibal matched the boy's proud tone.

"I like your eyes. They look like fire."

Hannibal leaned closer to the boy and whispered as if sharing a personal secret. He was careful to keep his tone loud enough for the suspicious mother to hear. Softly, "I like your eyes as well, Christopher. They look like chocolate and that is one of my favorite things."

"I like chocolate too!" the boy excitedly offered, his former pride returned.

An aide entered the waiting area and called out, "Mrs. Lecter? The doctor will see you now."

The moment Clarice stood all eyes shifting to her. Aside from the boy who caught his attention, Hannibal had avoided eye contact, thus the couple had been fairly inconspicuous until now. Clarice didn't feel the burn of the stares, though she was well aware of them.

Hannibal stood and offered the young man his hand. His voice was gentle as he spoke, "I must go now but I have thoroughly enjoyed our conversation. It has been so very nice to speak with you, Christopher."

"It was nice to speak to you too…" he was embarrassed. He forgot the name.

His name offered with a smile, "Hannibal."

The boy smiled his voice cheerful, "It was nice to speak to you… Hannibal."

Before turning to join his wife, Hannibal leaned toward the boy's mother. "Your Christopher is quite remarkable for his age. You are no doubt a wonderful mother. My compliments to you for his manners, he is well-bred."

The young woman looked up sheepishly, "Thank you, Doctor Lecter. My good wishes to you and your wife."

"May I offer ours to you as well, Madam."

Turning back, Clarice reached out a hand. "H…Come."

Hannibal joined Clarice quite pleased at the exchange with the young boy.

Clarice suffered through the weigh in, the blood pressure, the medical history conversation and the brief meeting with the nutritionist where Hannibal brought up the subject of bacon. Clarice was not amused. They were then directed another room where Clarice was given the envious opportunity to change into her little paper gown. When redirected to the examination room she shook her head at the contraption she would have rest on and strap her legs into.

"Looks like a damned medieval torture device!" she complained.

"This too shall pass, my Love." Hannibal supported quietly.

Clarice, indignant and obviously irritated climbed up onto the examination table. Hannibal helped to steady her placing a firm hand on her back, holding an elbow for further stability. They awaited the doctor.

"I can't stand this, H. I don't get why you can't just deliver the baby."

"The State of Maryland revoked my license to practice medicine, Clarice."

"Who gives a damn? We could have had the baby at home. They can't tell you what to do in your own goddamned home!"

"You are in your thirties Clarice and although you are a very active and healthy woman there are risks associated with any pregnancy. I would not take a chance with your life or that of our child due to some misplaced vanity on my part. I will be present at the birth and will watch over the physician to be certain you are receiving the very best medical attention. You have no worries. I will see to it that all is as it should be."

If he were being completely honest with Clarice he would admit to her that trust was an issue for him as well. Hannibal would be forced to trust that this Doctor had the knowledge and the experience necessary not only to deliver the child safely but also to address any problems that might arise. He had done copious amounts of research and this obstetrician had the schooling and experience he sought. Hannibal also had extreme reservations when he considered another man anywhere near his wife.

The doctor entered. She was a very tall woman of medium build with a pleasant face. Not attractive but pleasing in a friendly and caring way. She extended her hand to Hannibal. It was a very large hand for a woman.

"Doctor Lecter, Mrs. Lecter I'm Doctor Walters but for our purposes I would prefer first names if that doesn't offend. You can call me Karla."

Hannibal took her hand. "Of course Karla, I am Hannibal and this is my lovely wife Clarice."

"I am very pleased to meet you both. Do you have any questions or concerns before we proceed with the examination?"

"I have many questions, though they can wait. Please proceed." Hannibal said as he considered the doctor carefully.

Karla directed her next question to Clarice. "Do you have anything you'd like to ask or discuss?"

"No…no questions, I'm good." Clarice mumbled still not entirely convinced this doctor was needed.

Hannibal explained, "My wife and I are of a different mind where pre-natal care is concerned. She believes I am capable of seeing to her health and delivering our child. I believe it is best for her care to be administered by a specialist."

The doctor was busying herself examining Clarice. She spoke as she prepared Clarice for a pap smear. Hannibal moved to stand beside his wife's head to provide her with medical privacy.

"Clarice I understand why you would like your baby delivered by your husband. It's only natural. If we have a smooth delivery with no complications as a physician Hannibal can assist me. I would be more than happy to have him receive the baby from you, cut the umbilical cord and bring the baby to you himself. There must be no complications however."

"That would make me feel a lot better about this, thank you Doctor." Clarice dropped her head back as the doctor reached for the speculum.

Hannibal stroked her hair and spoke softly in her ear until the process was completed.

"Good news Hannibal and Clarice. The uterus is of normal size and shape and the cervix is well formed with no abnormalities. I looked at all of your pre-appointment blood work and urine analysis and everything fell within the normal range. You are on your way to a beautiful healthy baby. Would you like to see the baby? We can do an ultrasound?"

"We can see the baby today? That isn't another appointment?" Clarice was finally interested in something the woman had to say.

"Not only can we see the baby today but if he or she isn't too shy, we should be able to determine the sex of the child as well."

"Now I'm excited! Clarice said her voice bursting with emotion.

The doctor wheeled a machine beside Clarice and moved the gown to the side to give her access to the abdomen. She squirted a gel over Clarice's belly bump and moved the instrument around searching the area. She began marking sections on the monitor.

"Well, the baby is about ten inches long…that's about what we would expect. I don't see any abnormalities or physical anomalies. Well, I must say…the baby is not shy at all. Do you want to know the sex of you baby or do you want to be surprised?"

Clarice looked at Hannibal and questioned him, "I hate surprises, H…what about you?"

"I leave that to you my Love. The decision is yours." Hannibal had read many ultrasound images. He already knew the answer though he kept it to himself allowing her the excitement of the decision. His heart was already pounding.

"I want to know. What is it a boy or a girl?" she held her breath.

The doctor smiled widely. This was her favorite part of the job. "Hannibal…Clarice…it's a boy."

Clarice's eyes welled as she looked at the image of her son. Suddenly this baby was very real. She reached for her husband. He held her close. "Clarice…we will have a son?"

"Yeah H…you know what that means right?"

Hannibal kissed the tears from her cheek, "No...what does it mean my Love?"

Clarice wrapped her arms her husband's neck and pulled him close to her. She whispered in his ear. "It means that in five months you will have an heir, Hannibal Lecter IX. Your family line will continue. It doesn't end with you. The men who killed your family didn't succeed…the family will continue…you will pass your family history to another generation."

Hannibal buried his face in his wife's neck. He wanted this moment to be private. He whispered quietly through silent tears. "Thank you…Clarice...Thank you."

Hannibal and Clarice left the office holding each other tightly.

When Nico was certain the pair had left the parking complex, he exited the vehicle wearing a black suit and tie. His hair was swept back from his face. He walked up the reception desk of the office.

"Excuse me, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter's personal assistant. In all of the excitement the Lecter's misplaced the card informing them of their next appointment. Would you be so kind as to repeat the date and time for me so that I may arrange their transportation?"

"Certainly I'll make another appointment card."

Nico waited patiently. The receptionist handed him the date and time of the next appointment. He placed the card in his inside jacket and patted it for safe keeping. The date and time of Hannibal's surrender fixed. This deadly appointment one that the merciless man would most assuredly keep.

**Until the next chapter, my friends,**

**LH**


	50. Chapter 50

**Welcome back to my Lecter Saga! Thanks for following so faithfully! **

**PREPARATIONS**

Hannibal and Clarice spent the next three weeks setting up the room for their son. Clarice purchased the same furniture for the Baltimore home as she had for the nursery in Argentina. Painters arrived and the walls were covered in a muted shade of blue.

Clarice busied herself with the baby's wardrobe folding each of the tiny outfits she had just laundered.

Hannibal, clad in casual clothing and a baseball cap to keep paint out of his hair worked diligently on a large mural. He was painting a pastoral scene with his family castle in the background. He received quite the slap from Clarice when she returned to find a very large image of herself in the foreground, resting on the grass turned toward the distant castle reminiscent of Wyeth's Christina's World.

Clarice's face unlike the Wyeth subject was visible in profile, very flattering and obviously done with great love and care. A lamb rests quietly at her feet.

Hannibal laughed, rather pleased as he painted himself in front of the castle riding the horse of his childhood, assuming a stance of protection and status.

"Very funny, H." she laughed, slapping his backside as he passed to retrieve a different brush. "I'm squatting in the grass like the proverbial farmer's daughter with an animal at my feet and you're on horseback looking magnificent and regal.

Hannibal sought to tease her just a bit more, adding a slightly metallic edge to his voice, "The child must know the history of both parents, Clarice. I cannot control my family's nobility any more than you can control your family's rather modest beginnings. Just as your looks were an accident, so too the lowly station of your birth."

Clarice took the clothing and placed it in the child's wardrobe. She closed it, walked over to Hannibal and pushed the brim of his hat down totally covering his face. "Yeah, well I'm just warning you, if you stick a trailer for my family out behind that castle you'll be sleeping alone tonight."

Hannibal used an index finger to push the hat back into position. "Understood, although it is true, I do enjoy a good wheedle now and then, you must know no insult to you was intended. Reminding myself that your birthday is quickly approaching two days prior to Christmas, I was going for somewhat of a nativity iconography. When the child is born I will add him to the mural beside you. It will be a Madonna and child imago."

"Whatever trips your trigger H." Clarice sat on the antique rocking chair Hannibal purchased and placed near the crib for nighttime feedings. She held a pillow against her belly and rocked back and forth pushing off with the balls of her feet. A question formed in her mind.

"Speaking of the nativity H, what are we doing about Christmas? I don't think any of our friends will be around. Ardelia and Logan are traveling to her parents. Lloyd is traveling as well. Have you spoken to Barney?"

Hannibal paused to consider a detail, he briefly visited his memory castle his eyes closed for the briefest of moments. When he found what he was seeking his eyes opened and he continued adding a very specific tree to the background. He spoke plainly as he painted, "Barney will be accompanying his new love interest to her family home in Virginia. It would seem that we are on our own this holiday. Not to worry…I will make every effort to make it memorable."

Clarice sat absentmindedly twirling an index finger around one of the tassels on the pillow she held. "I think I'd rather be alone for Christmas anyway. Thanksgiving was incredible but you worked too hard and we didn't get much time together. Christmas, I want you all to myself."

Clarice watched intently as Hannibal painted. He held the brush equally with both hands shifting back and forth between the right and left, the usage determined by the section of the mural on which he worked. She was impressed with his ability to remember the smallest of details and desperately wanted to ask him about the castle and the estate. He was adding details she knew were memories as each of the items were specifically placed. With Hannibal there were no accidents. Everything had a purpose. Her eye caught the rendering of a large copper cistern a flash of sunlight reflected as it leaned under the tree. She left it alone. Better to let him reveal the meanings when he was ready. She changed the subject.

"When is my next appointment with the doctor? It should be soon."

Hannibal stepped back from the mural and tapped the handle of the brush to his teeth. "Wednesday at 2:00 p.m. so that you will be well rested and well fed prior to the appointment though your brunch decision may impact your weigh in."

Clarice squeezed the pillow as if hugging her baby. "I can't wait to see him again! He's probably gotten so much bigger."

Hannibal winked flirtatiously at Clarice. "As have you, my Love."

She did not take her husband's comment as the compliment it was intended and her voice reflected her irritation, "That ridiculously expensive couch downstairs will be calling your name at bedtime if you keep this up, _Doctor_."

Hannibal was very amused at her reaction. "_Doctor…_ Not even Hannibal? Quite upset are you?"

She was pouting. "Quite."

Hannibal walked behind the rocker, draped his arms around his wife and rubbed her belly.

"If you were not getting larger the baby would not be growing. Another thing you might wish to consider before you put me out of our bed is that you are getting rather curvy and I must say my Love you wear it well. I actually find it exceedingly attractive. Therefore when I comment on your size I am not being derogatory and you must not take it as such."

Clarice was not convinced. "That's easy for you to say. You're not as big as a house."

Hannibal put his arms around her and kissed her gently. "Neither are you, Clarice. The amount of weight you have gained is quite average…" he whispered the rest of the sentence, "…you on the other hand are anything _but_ average."

Hannibal held his wife closely to him. He had been feeling sentimental as of late and hugged her tightly to him. He felt compelled to speak, his voice took on a somber tone, "There will come a day Clarice when we will part from one another and I want you to know that had you not come into my life, I would never have felt the love of family again."

Clarice was moved and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "I feel the same way, H."

Hannibal kissed the mark of Courage on her cheek. "You have brought me that which I prayed for as a child but never dared expect and had given up hope for. It had been a long time since I felt the presence of God…if there is a heaven I have found it in your arms."

Hannibal moved from behind Clarice and took a place at her feet. She took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. "Please, Hannibal…don't talk about leaving…I know it will happen but…don't talk about it. I love you too much…I can't face it."

"Hannibal…not H?"

"No…H isn't this serious…Hannibal is…I want H back."

Hannibal gathered her to him and whispered in her ear. "Don't worry my Love…I won't be leaving anytime soon. We will be together for many years to come."

**NICO'S PREPARATION**

There was a need for two rooms of sleeping quarters. One Nico designated for his quarters was spartan yet utilitarian to his needs being no more than a bed and a place to store his clothing. The other room was designed for Hannibal and Emilia and housed a large king sized bed. There was bedding available in a trunk at the foot of the bed though the mattress was encased in a thick plastic protector. Blood on a mattress would be evidence of a crime. Plastic could be cleaned with bleach removing the evidence.

Nico would sleep each night when he was finished with his ministrations to Hannibal. Emilia would then take over and nurse the wounds. She was convinced if she cared for his body she could change his mind. She believed she could make him want her again. She would see him dead if she could not.

**THE CAPTURE**

The doctor's appointment went well. Clarice was thrilled as she clutched the sonogram image, her pony tail bobbed happily behind her as she walked up to the front door of their home. She wanted to place the image in a baby book Hannibal purchased. She reached for the doorknob but heard the squealing of tires and turned, her heart still filled with happiness, her hand still on the doorknob.

Emilia pulled up alongside and called out, "Hannibal…I would love you to join me."

Hannibal turned to her. "I think not."

Suddenly he heard Clarice call to him, her voice panicked, "Hannibal!"

Hannibal spun see Nico with Clarice, a blade at her pregnant belly. "It is your choice, Doctor. You may leave or you may stay. There will be consequences to either choice."

"What are the consequences attached to the choices? I would like to make an informed decision." Hannibal's heart pounded. Though it was not noticeable to anyone but himself, terror strangled him. He took a deep breath and spoke very softly showing little reflection of the concern he felt for his wife and his unborn child. Though his countenance remained impassive, his heart rate shot well above his normal limit of eighty-five beats per minute. Hannibal's body trembled. There was a throbbing at his temples as his brain tripped through hundreds of possibilities, dozens of scenarios. His eyes flashed as he decided on a plan. Clarice's safety, the safety of the baby was all that mattered. He would have her safe.

Nico's voice remained his normal monotone, "If you leave with Emilia, my stay with your wife will be brief. If you chose not to leave with Emilia my visit will be prolonged and you will be forced to watch. Emilia has given me the gift of your wife. I am actually not interested. Pregnant women are not good karma to injure, but I will make an exception if you force me."

"May I make a counter offer?" Hannibal suggested passively, "If _you_ will leave with _me_ and allow my wife to enter the home and arm the security system I will not only be more than happy to accompany you I will offer absolutely no resistance. Emilia can leave simultaneously and we can follow each other to whatever destination you desire. There is no need for you to remain in my wife's company. I am fully willing to comply."

"H…no! You can't go with them! They want to kill you!"

"No Clarice…much like Mason, they just want to see me suffer in some unimaginable way."

"H…PLEASE…NO!" Clarice was holding her belly and doubled over, sobbing uncontrollably.

Nico was intrigued. "You will offer no resistance? Even into the building? You will make no move to escape in the transfer or call out in warning? You offer your word in this matter?"

Hannibal nodded, "I offer you my word…no resistance…no calling out…If she is safe in our home, I will go with you willingly."

"I accept your offer." Nico walked away from Clarice and moved quickly to his car. Clarice slipped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shaking so violently that Hannibal feared seizure. He called to her, desperate for her to enter the home and arm the system. "Clarice…please we have little time. GO! NOW!"

Clarice leaned against the door and slowly used her shoulders and her arms to walk her body up the door allowing her to stand. Her legs wobbled like a new born foal. She was forced to lean on the door knob for support. "H? H? I can't…not without you…I can't!"

"My Love…for the sake of the child…for my sake…go into the home…for me, Clarice…please…please, go home." Hannibal's eyes burned as he struggled to fight off the tears. He would give nothing for Emilia to feed upon.

Her hand trembled violently as Clarice slapped down the doorknob and pushed open the door. She looked back at Hannibal her eyes pouring anguish down her cheeks. "H…don't leave me…don't…"

"Lock the door and arm the system Clarice." Hannibal spoke quietly. "Remember what I have told you…you are my Heaven. No matter what happens…never forget that."

Nico pulled his car alongside Hannibal, got out and moved beside him. "Get in Doctor."

"Not until she is safe." Hannibal stood his ground. To his wife, his eyes pleading, "Clarice...now."

Clarice entered the home, locked the door and wept uncontrollably as she armed the security system certain that she had just sealed her husband's fate.

Satisfied that his wife was safe, Hannibal allowed Nico to cuff his hands. He then stepped sideways into the car and sat quietly, awaiting his fate.

Clarice watched as Nico attached the handcuffs to Hannibal. Nico then moved quickly back to the wheel.

Though restrained, Hannibal placed his hand on the glass of the window. Clarice matched the gesture, placing her hand on the beveled glass of the front door to their home.

She watched until she could see the car no longer. Bent at the waist, in hysterics her body collapsed in on itself, her heart whirlpooled within her rib cage and sank to the depths of her chest cavity. Clarice believed she would never see him again. She pounded a fist against her sternum. Her cries were so deep and mournful that had anyone heard them, they would have believed the pain to be unbearable, the anguish infinite. She threw herself onto the couch she shared with Hannibal the night he held vigil to protect her from Nico. She screamed her rage into the cushions, her ribs bellowed as her tears absorbed in the down.

Hannibal sat impassively as Nico drove him to his fate, only mildly curious as to what was in store for him. There was no panic now that she was safe. Nothing else mattered. His mind moved to particle physics and string theory. He found the calculations pleasurable in the extreme and passed his time considering the properties of time as it was precious to him now. He had hoped for more of it.

Clarice called Barney. He was on the way, Ardelia as well with Logan. Lloyd would be there within the hour. For the first time in many years Hannibal had friends. They would look for him now. With luck…if and when they found him, he might still be alive.

**Thanks for reading! Drop me a review and tell me what you think! Until the next chapter my friends! **

**LH**


	51. Chapter 51

**WELCOME BACK MY FAITHFUL FAN FIC FRIENDS! Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to review at the end! I'd love to know what you think!**

**LOSING CONTROL**

It didn't bode well for Hannibal that during transport they did not cover his eyes.

_You have no intention of ever letting me go, at least not while you remain in the area. _

Hannibal had been enjoying the crisp day. He tilted his head upward and admired the blanket of clouds pregnant with snow. The stillness beckoned the approach of winter and Hannibal was certain to breathe deeply not knowing how long it would be before he could free himself and enjoy fresh air again.

_You cannot afford to let me outside of the home. I am far too easy to identify. No…I will be kept indoors for this._

He would make every effort to be home before Clarice's birthday in four days. She would be sick with worry. He would have to be careful but expeditious in his planning. He would save her as much anguish as possible.

_Do not worry Clarice our child will not be fatherless. I do not know the man, but I do know Emilia. It may take some time…rest assured I will have my way. Forgive me for what I may have to do to come back to you._

Hannibal was good to his word and followed Nico into the rented home. He didn't make a sound and offered no resistance. When he entered the foyer Nico directed him down the hall.

"Please proceed this way, Doctor Lecter." Hannibal passed the taller man and entered the room as he was directed. When he saw the autopsy table he stalled briefly, his hands still cuffed in front of him. He could feel Nico move behind him closing the distance between them, the smell of the chloroform reached his nostrils long before the cloth reached his face. Instead of raising his hands defensively he took several deep breaths and as he felt the whoosh of air displacement, just before the cloth covered his face, he held the last inhalation.

_Alright young Einstein, let us see what you have planned. _

Hannibal thrashed for a few moments as if in the throes of panic then, understanding exactly how a body would react to this drug allowed his own body to collapse.

Nico reached forward to prevent Hannibal from falling to the ground. He grabbed around Hannibal's shoulder and firmly gripped the handcuffs. The much larger man then lifted Hannibal over his shoulder in a modified fireman's carry and placed him carefully on the metal table. He raised Hannibal's joined hands over his head while still cuffed. Nico then secured the cuffs to an attachment point welded to the top of the table just above Hannibal's head.

Moving quickly to the bottom of the table, Nico gripped Hannibal's legs at the ankles and pulled the body until both arms were stretched to the limit. The chains of the cuffs strained painfully gouging deeply into his skin. The metal of the table was already very cold radiating through his clothing which Hannibal believed he was certain to be divested of soon. Nico moved to the hallway and waved Emilia into the room.

Hannibal waited.

"Emilia he is sleeping though not for much longer. You may come in for a moment and see your wolf at rest."

Emilia peeked around the corner of the door frame, timid to enter. "Are you certain he is sleeping?"

Nico was irritated at the insinuation. "Of course he is asleep but he will not be for much longer."

Emilia ran a hand from Hannibal's throat down the center of his chest. She began to proceed toward his groin when Nico stayed her hand.

"I must ask you to stop, Emilia. I will not allow you to molest the man while he sleeps. You may do with him what you will when he is conscious but if you wish to degrade him I ask you to wait until I bring him to you. He is in my care now and though I have no love for this man I will preserve his dignity as best I can. You must respect my time with him as I will respect your time with him. I will tolerate no intrusion as I will not intrude on you."

"What time will you bring him to me?" Emilia asked making no effort to hide her enthusiasm.

"It will be several hours. You will have him nightly when he has reached his limits but you will have to be available during the day. He will need to use the facilities and I have no desire to care for him in that manner. You will be responsible for his sanitary needs and his feedings. I will transport him to assure he is restrained but you will have to assist him. I will not remove his restraints for any reason."

"I'll be here the entire time. You only need call me. Whatever his needs are, I'll take care."

Hannibal listened carefully. He had already learned quite a bit of information in this exchange. He learned that there were weaknesses in the planning. He would be fed and that would help to keep his strength up. That was a mistake. He would be moved back and forth to a bathroom…another mistake. Any time there is movement, there is opportunity. Hannibal was most pleased to hear that he would spend each night in the company of Emilia alone. He understood her. If left alone with her long enough he could control her.

Knowing the drug should be wearing off, Hannibal began to stir.

"He is waking. Leave me to him. You will have him soon enough."

Emilia dragged a finger up the length of Hannibal's zipper. "Nothing below the belt…I want him capable."

"There is no need to worry. I am not interested in that part of his anatomy. I will extract flesh, possibly some bone. You can have the rest."

Emilia stopped next to Hannibal and kissed his forehead. "I'll care for you soon my magnificent beast. You will spend the night in my arms."

Hannibal opened his eyes but did not respond. He would not speak in front of Nico. He would be silent.

Nico waved Emilia away. He was growing irritated and wanted to put his plans into action. "Leave us now…I have my work to attend to and you are in the way."

Emilia closed the door to see Nico cutting the clothing from Hannibal's torso.

Hannibal's eyes closed. He walked himself through his memory palace. He entered the room where the paintings his mother favored were stored. This memory one of his earliest and most precious, his mother and he standing side by side in the great hall of the ancestral castle admiring the work of an Italian Renaissance master, the time spent together in loving silence.

His mind now occupied pleasantly and his pain compartmentalized, Hannibal paid little attention as the vicious sadist tore into Hannibal's body with his own Harpy and peeled thin strips of flesh from the tender area along his ribs.

Hannibal's blood flowed.

**ANGUISH**

Ardelia sat with Clarice. She had been investigating the stalker but the plates and vehicle were a dead end. The car had been reported stolen from a commuter parking lot. Now there was a secondary car, Clarice reported the plate of the car Emilia was driving, also stolen, this from an airport long term parking lot. No help with the cars. Dee was worried about her friend. She questioned Clarice very gently, mindful of her friend's emotional state.

"Clarice, is there anything you can remember…anything at all? What do you know about her?"

Clarice sat on the sofa, her body language reflecting her anguish. She sat, holding a throw pillow on her lap, huddled over it. She was no longer crying, though her eyes were red and practically swollen closed. Her voice was raspy as her earlier cries had etched their mark on her vocal cords. "I don't know anything about her. Your boyfriend knows just as much about her as I do."

Ardelia looked up from the notes she was making. "What? What's that supposed to mean? Why would Logan know anything about her?"

"Logan told me about a website where Hannibal's ex-lovers posted details about their sexual relationships." Clarice set the pillow on her lap and lowered her body to rest on it.

"And this woman is listed on the website?"

Clarice sighed, remembering the night in Buenos Aires. "Yeah…she's all over it. I read it…it's horrible. Definitely not H's best moment. Mine either for that matter."

Ardelia put a consoling hand on Clarice's shoulder. "Sorry, Clarice…I'm sure that was upsetting and I'd like to give you both some privacy in that respect. If I can help it I want to avoid reading any details about Hannibal's past sexual experiences so is there any information on that site that might give me some kind of information…any leads at all?"

"No…just a lot of freaking sex. Though I don't know if she was required to prove to anyone that see had a relationship with him or give any kind of proof of who she was. I guess they only had to prove they had contact with him…wait…Hannibal told me that she had a key and secured this house for him. She returned the key to his lawyer at the time. Maybe the lawyer would have some kind of contact information."

Ardelia scribbled more notes. "I'll check the attorney of record and give him a call. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"You can check immigration, customs…She had to have flown in from overseas. We saw her in Buenos Aires. I doubt she has false identification. She may have nefarious associates but I don't think she has the wherewithal to pull off the passports, identification in such a short an amount of time."

"Emilia is her first name? Do you know her last name?"

"Dolente…Emilia Dolente."

"Lloyd…Get in here!"

Lloyd entered the room very quietly. He was obviously concerned for Clarice and didn't want to cause any distress. "What can I do for you Ardelia?'

"We need to run a check on the name Emilia Dolente…customs, immigration, flights, hotel bookings…anything and everything. And tell Logan to hit his lap top and cross check that name on all of his Lecter sites…if there is any information on that woman that we can use…I want it."

"You got it." Lloyd could see Clarice was overwhelmed. He took a knee beside her. "Clarice? I know this is difficult but I want you to know that we're going to work day and night until we find him. We'll bring him back to you."

"Thanks Lloyd. That really means a lot to me."

"No worries, Clarice…anything you need until then…we're all here for you."

Clarice felt better. She was surrounded by friends. Her husband was not.

**LIMITS **

Hannibal did not know exactly how long he had been in Nico's company. He could feel the blood that had pooled at the small of his back. He was cold. The metal table held the chill and that building pool of serum, sticky and wet along with the searing pain that released it added to his discomfort.

Nico called for Emilia, his voice unemotional but his volume heightened. "You may come in here Emilia. I have finished. There is one more touch I wish to add. Your wolf will howl."

Emilia appeared in the doorway and seeing her, Nico grabbed Hannibal's shoulder and pulled hard flipping him onto his undamaged side. He reached into a bag and pulled out a container of salt. He opened it and poured the contents over the open wounds. He then took his fist and began to grind the course material into Hannibal's wounds.

Hannibal's body tensed, every muscle flinching from the pain though he made no sound.

Nico stood quietly, shocked that there had been no reaction. "The wolf is old but he is strong. No matter. In the long run…I will win." He reached into the same bag and pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He opened the bottle and began soaking the wound with the liquid.

Again, Hannibal's body tensed as he bit at his lip to fight back the pain, his molars grinding at the insides of his cheeks. Still he made no sound.

"I warned you my Hannibal was strong. It will be difficult." Emilia spoke with pride.

"It is no matter. Today was the first of many days. He may hold his tongue now…each day builds on the day before. Today he felt the blade…tomorrow the blade will feel the heat. The burn will loosen his tongue."

Nico moved across the room and retrieved a large pole with a retractable noose on the end. He slipped the noose around Hannibal's neck and tightened it. Hannibal could barely draw breath through the restriction. "Doctor Lecter I would like to offer you the dignity of the bathroom. I will ask Emilia to unchain the cuffs from the table. Your hands will still be restrained but you will be free from the table. If you make any move other than the directions I give you, I will choke you out with the noose. Is that understood? Do you agree to follow the instructions?"

Hannibal nodded. Emilia released the handcuffs. Hannibal waited for direction.

"You may sit up, Doctor."

Hannibal sat up slowly and lowered his arms with great difficulty, his muscles sore from the restrictions.

"You may swing your legs off the table and place them on the floor. Test your muscles and be certain you can stand."

Hannibal did as directed. He was able to stand, though he was light headed. Nico pushed at the pole forcing Hannibal forward. "Walk forward into the next room. There is a bathroom you may use. Emilia will assist you. I will control the pole from outside the bathroom door. When you have finished you will be moved to the bed."

Hannibal walked tentatively. He could feel the blood seeping out of the wounds running like hash marks along each of his ribs. The salt and the alcohol still trapped within the gashes, the pain was extreme.

Hannibal was allowed the use of the bathroom. He had some difficulty but managed without Emilia's assistance. He hoped she would clean the wounds, though he would not ask it of her.

Nico dragged Hannibal out of the bathroom and pulled him into the bedroom. He stopped just short of the bed. "Doctor if you would please take a seat and allow Emilia to attach the handcuffs to the mount on the bed you will be allowed slightly more length in this chain. The chain is quite sturdy so do not entertain the thought that you can escape. It is quite impossible."

Again, Hannibal did exactly as directed. Emilia quickly attached a long chain to the cuffs. She then restrained each of his legs by attaching leather straps to his ankles that were attached to the foot of the bed.

When Hannibal was fully secured, Nico removed the noose from Hannibal's throat and moved to the door.

"He is in your care, Emilia. I am going to retire for the evening. Do not remove his restraints. An injured wolf is a dangerous beast."

"Thank you Nico. I will be quite careful."

Nico left them and returned to the room with the metal table. He took several items from a closet, a small portable blow torch, and several rods that were designed to be used as small branding irons.

"Very well, Doctor you want me to know that you are strong. I want you to know that I do not give up easily…I will burn the flesh from your body if I must but I will hear your voice. You will cry out for mercy and find none."

**CONTROL**

Hannibal dropped his tortured body backward onto the bed, twisting in pain. Emilia guided him onto his uninjured side.

"You have material in your wounds that must be removed. I will clean it very carefully but you have to stay very still."

Hannibal nodded. He closed his eyes as Emilia tended to him. Although another woman's hands moved over his body, his thoughts were only for Clarice.

Hannibal's body was now cleaned and his wounds temporarily covered. Emilia tightened the chain, restricting his movements. She wanted access to his body and did not want to deal with his refusal. As the chain tightened and the handcuffs were stretched again above his head Emilia took a scissor and cut the blood stained boxers from Hannibal's body.

**ALONE**

Barney was afraid to leave Clarice alone. He wasn't convinced that Hannibal's captors would not return. He slept in the spare bedroom keeping vigil.

Clarice finally crawled into bed at two a.m. She was terrified, exhausted and overwhelmed. She said a prayer and closed her eyes with thoughts of her husband.

_Come back to me, H…I'm lost…come back to me._ Though she sobbed silently, sleep soon found her.

This morning seemed like a world away. He had been with Clarice and the day was magic. Now, he was trapped in a nightmare. Emotionally distraught Hannibal closed his eyes as Emilia took his flesh into her hand. Before his body could betray him, he turned just enough to roll himself onto his wounds inducing inhuman levels of pain.

Emilia wanted him stimulated. He would make certain not to comply. The pain effectively held his autonomic responses fully at bay.

_I have no control over what you do to me, Emilia. I promise you, however…you will not have my cooperation. You can handle my body as I have no power to stop you but you will not have me. I am not yours. I will never be yours. I am only for Clarice._

Hannibal's thoughts turned to his wife. _I cannot control this…forgive me Clarice…forgive me._

Emilia soon grew frustrated. She covered Hannibal's body with a quilt and got into bed next to him. She held him until she fell asleep.

When he realized she was now sleeping, Hannibal's body relaxed and his eyes finally closed. As the shroud of sleep overtook him his last thought was for Clarice.

_Sleep well my Love…sleep well._

**Don't forget to let me know what you think! Review, then post a pm and say hello!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	52. Chapter 52

**Welcome back my very faithful friends! Please enjoy the chapter and don't forget to let me know what you think! Thanks to all who continue to review. It is inspirational and keeps me writing! It's nice to know what you think of the fic. I love writing it! I'm thrilled that there are people who love reading it as well! My most humble thanks.**

**LH**

**HANNIBAL'S PLAN**

Hannibal's sleep was not at all peaceful. His dreams were filled with disruptive and intrusive memories. He heard Clarice crying, calling to him as he slept. The cuts on his side pulsed with his heartbeat. He needed to use the bathroom. He would have to disturb Emilia.

_This is as good a time as any to test your resolve_.

Emilia had been clinging to him throughout the night and though she was careful for the most part to avoid his injury, on occasion she had brushed against it sending lightening pulses through his nervous system. Emilia held him loosely around his waist, her hands at times massaging his sore muscles. She explored his body at her leisure.

Hannibal was in no position to argue as his arms were still stretched above his head. He was unconcerned with her inspection. They had been intimate many times before. He considered it no more than a cursory inspection as he did not desire her on any level. He was fully nude, as was she. He twisted his body in an attempt to rouse her.

"Emilia… I am becoming quite uncomfortable and need to use the restroom. Would you escort me?"

Emilia rolled over and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice was unsure, "I'm sure you realize why I can't do that Hannibal. You are far too strong and would overpower me very easily. I'll ask Nico to assist me."

"Emilia I would prefer not to wake him. I am not so enamored of his company that I would volunteer to join him earlier than he has planned. Please, I offer you my word. I will use the bathroom and make no move to escape. It isn't as if a word of warning will not bring your friend. You need not approach me. Hand me the key and I will open the lock and reattach the chain upon my return."

Hannibal watched her eyes.

_She wants to trust me. _

"I'm not sure I should believe what you say," she said as she stood and wrapped herself in a robe. She offered no such comfort to Hannibal though knowing what awaited him when Nico came for him, being naked was the least of his worries.

Hannibal asserted his need, "If you do not make a decision soon it will be a moot point. You will be forced to launder the sheets and I will need a shower."

She reached into the pocket of her robe to the silver key dangling from a chain. Just as she moved to swing the chain and toss the key to Hannibal the door swung open. Nico stood in the entry holding the long restraint pole. He was angry at her ignorance.

"Must I remind you Emilia that the wolf is a cunning and intelligent animal? I will not warn you again. You must never remove his restraints. You may wish to die at his hands. I have no such desire."

Nico swung the large pole and slipped the noose quickly over Hannibal's head. He gripped the airplane cable and whipped his arm back quickly tightening the loop, choking off precious air. He then shoved at the pole to force Hannibal flat on his back.

"I realize you must attempt an escape and I do not fault you as such, however there will be consequences to that behavior. If you make an attempt to flee you must be certain you are successful. If I recapture you and you do not take my life, I will pay your wife a visit and I assure you she will not enjoy it. I am sure that her tolerance for pain is not anywhere near as impressive as yours."

Hannibal's arms remained raised above his head, the cuffs still attached to the chain on the headboard. He rested prone so as not to appear a threat. The blood built up and pulsed at his temples and Hannibal could feel the pressure building behind his eyes. It would not be long before he would black out. His torso lurched forward, diaphragm in spasm as he desperately gasped for air.

Hannibal thrashed in desperation like a fish tossed up on a dock, his mouth opening and closing but drawing no benefit from the action. On the verge of passing out and starting to develop tunnel vision, Hannibal closed his eyes to curb the dizziness. He could feel every vein and artery expanding as if about to burst.

"Emilia, have you no sense of modesty? If you would please reach into the trunk retrieve the bottom half of a surgical scrub set and give them to Doctor Lecter so that he may at least partially dress himself."

Nico held the pole, keeping Hannibal's back firmly against the mattress and his face now turning a deep blue from the lack of oxygen.

Emilia, upon seeing the extreme level of distress Hannibal was suffering hurried to fetch the desired clothing from the trunk and placed a pair of the pants on his stomach.

There was no readable expression on Nico's face. "Now woman you may loosen the chain and release the hand cuffs from the bed."

Emilia quickly did as she was directed hoping that her haste would bring quicker relief to Hannibal. When the cuffs released from the bed, Nico pulled at the pole bringing Hannibal, now gasping for air to a seated position. He loosened the cable just enough to allow Hannibal three quick intakes of oxygen. He then again tightened the noose though there was just enough slack to allow for breath. He directed his words at first to Hannibal.

"You will stand and dress yourself. Emilia may require you in this state but I have no desire to see you degraded in this fashion."

Hannibal quickly stepped into and lifted the scrub bottoms. He pulled at the drawstring and tightened the pants.

Nico continued, "I will move you to the bathroom now. Please comply or I will close off your throat until you lose consciousness. Nod if you understand."

Hannibal nodded.

"Begin to walk."

Hannibal moved to the bathroom, his arms still aching from being lashed above his head the entire night. He could not fully lower them and held them elbows out and level with his chin. He did not address Nico and did not make eye contact with him. There was little light in this room and his eyes would have appeared threatening to someone not accustomed to the light play reflecting within his pupils. Though they did not actually glow, they would appear to Nico as if they did and he might see that as aggression.

_He sees me as old and that is to my advantage. Let him perceive me weak as well._

Hannibal stood slowly and moved to the bathroom. Once inside the bathroom, he moved very quickly but careful not to move the pole more than needed. He splashed cold water on his face, poured handfuls of water over his hair scrubbing his fingers through it vigorously, finally slicking it straight back from his forehead. He would not be Prey…he was Predator. He had plans to attend to. Hannibal then lowered his sleek head to the faucet drinking very quickly.

_I have lost blood. I need to increase my intake of fluids. I must keep my body ready. There will be but one chance and I must be swift and decisive. I cannot chance that this animal might move on Clarice._

He had used the bathroom only once yesterday and had not had the urge since that time, though this was his fourth trip. There were preparations needed. His visits could not be long in duration. He must be efficient in his preparations.

Hannibal's stream was weak and the urine dark signaling dehydration. His ribs were bruising a deep shade of purple as he had been punched in the kidneys several times. Hannibal was now concerned he might be passing blood.

He flushed the toilet and did his best to secure the scrubs. After washing his hands and turning off the faucet he paused knowing Nico would soon pull on the pole and drag him back into the bedroom. It didn't take long, with one sharp tug Hannibal was in Nico's company once again.

Nico's voice was emotionless, robotic as he spoke, "You will spend some time with me sating my hunger for your pain, I will then allow your hunger to be satisfied and allow Emilia to feed you."

He next turned his attentions to Emilia. "The next time I arrive to collect him be certain that he be clothed. Your wolf may be here at your behest but I will not see him in that state again. It is unnecessary. Whatever business you have with him you must conclude it before my arrival. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I understand…I had hoped for more time with him."

"If you cannot conclude your affairs by sunrise you will have to wait until sunset. I will not limit my activities to satisfy your cravings. I have cravings of my own to attend to."

Emilia bowed her head in supplication.

For his part Hannibal would reflect a similar stance. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Nico believed himself to be the alpha male and Hannibal thought it advantageous to encourage that belief.

_Never forget what he is…_

**CLARICE'S GUARDIAN**

Clarice had risen with the sun. Barney made her breakfast and was hovering over her like a mother hen, encouraging her to eat. His voice cheerful, "Clarice you know how pissed Dr. Lecter will be if he finds out that I didn't take care of you? He's like a brother to me. It's my job to make sure you're healthy and that you've eaten well until he comes back."

"Barney, if my H is a brother to you why do you still call him Doctor Lecter?"

"I don't know…I was really worried that it would be disrespectful to address him by his Christian name. I've got to work on that. He asked me to call him Hannibal and I really want to… I've just got to wrap my mind around it."

Clarice pushed the eggs around her plate placing small bites in her mouth. "It just seems that you have had nearly as intimate a relationship with Hannibal as I have. If anyone has earned the right to use his first name, it's you my friend."

Barney considered the statement, "It is because of that intimacy that I used his title and not his name."

Clarice was surprised by that comment and it reflected in her tone, "I don't get what you mean?"

"It was a forced intimacy and not at all welcomed by a man as dignified and private as Doctor Lecter. By using his title and recognizing that his station in life had far exceeded my own, it was my gesture of respect. It was my way of preserving his dignity in an extremely undignified setting."

Clarice smiled. "You're a good man Barney. H is lucky to have had you with him in that hellish place. He's told me many times he doesn't think he would have survived his incarceration if it weren't for you. Remember…he's Hannibal. Especially for you my friend so you promise me when we have him with us…Hannibal. No more Doctor Lecter."

Barney smiled. "Hannibal…I'll remember…I promise."

**NICO'S HUNGER**

Hannibal made no effort to block out the smell of his own burning flesh. His memories were linked in large part to his senses and the smell of human flesh roasting was pleasurable to him. It made little difference to him that the flesh was his.

Hannibal had moved the pain from his mind. He could feel pressure and he could smell the burning but he was reliving the night he roasted the cheeks of one of the men who cannibalized his sister with wild mushrooms. He took great pleasure in that death and was more than certain that Nico's death would bring an equal amount of pleasure. He was busy within his mind planning…he wasn't certain that he wanted to consume Nico. His sexual exploits so extreme that Hannibal considered the flesh contaminated, the meat too tainted to ingest.

Emilia was no better. Hannibal considered whether or not to take a trophy from either.

_Like Van Gogh perhaps an ear for my Love._

Nico finished with Hannibal and prepared to deliver him to Emilia. Hannibal very specifically broke his rule and addressed Nico directly.

"If you would please allow me the opportunity of visiting the bathroom before you leave me with Emilia. If memory serves me she is not allowed to transport me and it is fairly imperative that I visit it soon."

Nico retrieved the pole. He opened the door and called to Emilia. "Woman…your wolf needs you."

Emilia entered quickly. "What will you have me do for him?"

Nico slipped the noose over Hannibal's head and tightened the cable. Hannibal's eyes flashed in anger as his air supply was once again interrupted. Hannibal turned away so as not to alert Nico to his growing rage.

"He must use the facilities. Unchain his hands."

Emilia moved to Hannibal and began to unchain his cuffs. When she released him she glanced down at the blisters rising along his ribs. Emilia flinched at the sight.

"Nico…Oh my god what are you doing to him? What is that smell?"

Hannibal thought her concern for his health was more than a bit ridiculous. She had, after all arranged this soiree' and was footing the bill for the affair.

His eyes sparking, his voice tinged with anger Hannibal responded through clenched teeth, "That is the smell my burning flesh which your hired man has so meticulously seared from my body. Do not feign concern. It offends my intelligence and demeans his efforts on _your_ behalf."

Nico yanked at the pole, pulling Hannibal to an upright position. The speed with which his body was lurched opened the blisters forming over his ribs forcing clear liquid to weep from the torn pillows of flesh. Hannibal closed his eyes and suppressed his screams.

Nico was less than patient. "I have no time for your domestic spat. We will move to the bathroom and when you have finished you will be in Emilia's care. You may argue with each other at that time."

The pole was twisted and yanked as Nico shoved and dragged Hannibal from one room to the next with blatant disrespect and little if any fear. Hannibal did his best to protect the second and third degree burns running along his ribs and obliques. The herringbone pattern the heated Harpy created would form large keloids. It was painful to turn at the waist or lift his arms. When Nico shoved him into the bathroom Hannibal was thrown off balance and crashed his side against the door jamb, scraping the blistered flesh from his side.

Determined not to call out, Hannibal collapsed on the tile floor, dropping to his knees in agony. Not wanting to give Nico the satisfaction, slowly, he used the sink to pull himself up. Hannibal sat on the toilet seat, hands cuffed in front of him. He turned to the toilet paper dispenser and pushed on one side of the holder. When it sprang open, he smiled. Removing the roll he slipped the plastic cylinder from within the roll of tissue. Hannibal twisted the holder and carefully withdrew the curled metal coil spring he had been working on since his arrival. Finally he found success as the length of metal he had been bending and twisting released. He straightened the coil and tucked it along his gum line. He then stretched the remaining coil section apart wide enough to serve the same purpose and hold the tissue on the roller. Hannibal then stood, flushed the toilet to appear as though he had used the facilities and washed his hands. This would be the last night he would feel pain. He could not say the same for Nico and Emilia. Their pain would soon begin and Hannibal would find great pleasure in it.

Predator was loose. He could smell his prey. Clarice was not near to quell his rage or still his hand. Hannibal would have his revenge.

**Drop me a review and tell me what you think! **

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH **


	53. Chapter 53

**WELCOME BACK TO NO MORE A SAVAGE LIFE: CHAPTER TWO! **

**If you have gotten this far you are really dedicated and I appreciate your support! Enjoy my friends!**

**HANNIBAL'S BATTLE CRY**

Hannibal sat quietly across from Emilia. He would kill her very soon and was musing over the possible variations in his method and what the result of each would be. He did not have his Harpy yet. He would have it by the time he faced Nico but would not have the luxury for Emilia.

_No matter. Her death will be quick and deliberate._ _I must be swift…silent. Predator will prevail._

Though Hannibal wanted to take his time and savor this kill he could not chance that she might call out and alert Nico. He would be unable to enjoy it.

_Shame…it isn't as if I will have other opportunities…both kills are self-defense and as such are justifiable in the eyes of the law. I must take care not to be too whimsical or dramatic in my methods. I may take pleasure in their deaths but it will not do to appear too…enthusiastic._

Women are all capable of creating life and Hannibal was distinctly in awe of that gift. He thought this ability god-like in nature and had always considered himself their protector. Though it was not in his nature to kill women he would ensure the safety of his family if this particular woman were dead. He _would_ take pleasure in killing _this_ woman. Emilia would continue to be a danger to _his_ child and a danger to Clarice. As such, she must be killed.

Emilia and Hannibal sat across from one another at the large table. She served him his meal, the food less than palatable but with adequate protein. He would need strength to deal with Nico. Though the element of surprise would be in his favor Hannibal was much smaller and would need to expeditiously and fully disable Nico. Hannibal needed information.

_I need to learn all I can about this adversary before facing him tonight._

Hannibal spoke very softly so as not to be overheard, "Emilia, your associate claims to derive pleasure from my pain yet I see no evidence of such in our interaction. He remains stoic and quite workmanlike in his ministrations. He is in your employ, explain please."

The situation was surreal in its domesticity. Emilia tended to Hannibal as if he were her spouse, adding a piece of steak to Hannibal's plate and cutting it for him. He was allowed a plastic spoon. She spoke very pleasantly to Hannibal about his torturer, the topic treated as commonly as if one were discussing the weather, "He doesn't derive pleasure in any way that would be obvious to the observer at the time of the collection. His pleasure will begin soon. Perhaps tonight."

"What do you mean the time of the collection? Collecting what…Objects…Body parts?"

"No, thus far he has been merely collecting information. He has been testing your strengths and your weaknesses. He will assess what you find least pleasant and determine which form of coercion will be most effective to his purposes. He has already determined that cutting you and burning your flesh are well within your tolerance levels. He will find something that is not tolerable to you. That is when you will see his pleasure and not before. He is merely gathering information now. His pleasure will begin when your suffering begins. You have experienced pain but you have not yet approached true suffering."

Hannibal opened and closed the lock on his hand cuffs seven times since he finished eating his meal. "Have you been his company long?"

Emilia began to clear the dishes walking from the table to the sink and back again several times.

"Since just after you were incarcerated though not continually. He is extremely good at what he does and I do enjoy it but he is…intense in his delivery. I find that I can only tolerate his ministrations for a short time. I have been with him for years and you have already exceeded my tolerance."

"Not by choice, I assure you," Hannibal commented with a metallic edge to his voice.

Emilia had quite enjoyed their private dinner. The dishes cleared, she poured herself a glass of wine. She poured wine for Hannibal as well, though his cabernet was decanted in a bright red plastic cup.

"Be that as it may, Nico has rituals that always proceed in very specific order. That is why I was so shocked to see your burns. That level of pain is usually stepped up to quite gradually over several weeks. He must consider your tolerance of such things to be quite advanced. Though you would not perceive it as such, the fact that he disrupted his patterns to accommodate your tolerance is a tremendous compliment to you. He is conceding that you are superior to those who came before you."

"How fortunate for me to be so gifted in such a way," Hannibal commented sarcastically. "He removed strips of my skin and has collected cups of my blood. Do you have any idea what he is doing with it?"

"I have seen him drink some of the blood. As for the skin…I have no idea. He will eventually take a piece of bone. A toe or a knuckle...maybe because of your cannibalistic tendencies in your case he may want a tooth. As far as I know he does not share your affinity for human flesh though he may make an exception in your case. He may want to capture some of your... power. That is why he ingests the blood though I have also seen him bathe in it if he has collected enough. He is meticulous and quite professional don't you agree?"

Hannibal was amused by Emilia's impression of Nico. He continued to speak in order to allow him more time to practice unlocking the handcuffs with his self-fashioned key. He kept his intense eyes fixed on Emilia as he manipulated the key and continually locked and unlocked the mechanism binding him.

"Professional is not the word I'd use. He is at the very least…deliberate. When I do kill him I will be exceedingly deliberate as well. Rest assured I will take my time."

Emilia stood to retrieve another bottle of wine. She stopped a few feet away from the table, turned toward Hannibal and laughed.

"Do you actually believe you will free yourself?"

Hannibal smiled slyly. "Of that I have no doubt."

Emilia poured Hannibal another cup of wine. She was obviously quite entertained by this train of thought. "I am intrigued. When you do release yourself from your bonds…what will you do with me?"

Hannibal swirled the wine in the plastic cup to release the bouquet. "You have proven that you are a danger to my family. I will be forced to kill you as well though I will be certain to limit your pain and speed you along on your journey to whatever circle of hell will have you."

"I am not afraid of pain. I am afraid of nothingness." Emilia said with no small measure of humor. She did not believe Hannibal could ever outwit Nico.

Hannibal lowered his nose within the cup and deeply breathed, savoring the bouquet.

"You will soon pray for nothingness. You would be fortunate to be included in Dante's second circle. You will be in the company of others such as yourself…those driven by lust. You will be blown about on the tremendous winds of a most violent storm where you will find no direction or footing."

Emilia was unimpressed. "That doesn't sound like hell…it sounds like Kansas."

"It is my belief however that you will probably be relegated to the inner ring of the seventh circle. You can visit with Pier delle Vigne as he hangs disemboweled from a bleeding tree. A Minotaur will guard the entrance and as with most of the sodomites, you will wander about in a fiery hot desert with flakes of flame raining down upon you. You will pray for nothingness. It will never come."

"I am not afraid of Judgment. I am not afraid of you."

"Your fear will not affect my decision any more than my desire to remain with my wife affected yours. You have no intention of letting me go and I have no intention of remaining in your company. We shall see who has their way in this."

Emilia nodded, "Yes, Hannibal…we shall see."

Beneath the table Hannibal continually practiced unlocking the cuffs. He had gotten the process down to just a few seconds. He would have to survive one more interaction with Nico. He would move on them both tonight. Emilia would be first…he could overpower her in bed. Hannibal would wait to move on Nico until morning. Nico would come for him and he would be ready.

**FRIENDS CLOSING IN**

Ardelia contacted Hannibal's attorney from the original case in Baltimore. It took him quite some time but he found a long term address for an Emilia Dolente. It was attached to a note in Hannibal's meticulous copperplate informing the attorney that she was to deliver the key to the Baltimore home for his safe keeping.

At the time she maintained a suite at a local hotel. Knowing that people had the tendency to stick with places they were comfortable with especially under stressful circumstances, Lloyd and Ardelia obtained a search warrant and paid a visit to the hotel. Emilia had in fact booked a room though upon inspection it did not appear as if it were being utilized.

Luggage had been stacked in the corner unopened. Ardelia searched the cases with Lloyd for any information or evidence that might help them find Hannibal. Objects, clothing and papers were bagged, labeled and catalogued as evidence. There was female and male clothing. Ardelia wrote all of the sizes down for the male clothing as she believed from the European cut and high end fabrics were designed for Hannibal. She would check his sizes with Clarice.

Lloyd suddenly called out to Ardelia, "I've got a receipt for a home rental. A short term contract…it's local. Not far at all. Can we get a warrant?"

"Definitely. I'll call it in and as soon as we get the judge to act on the order we'll get Clarice. She'll want to come for the ride. If they have Hannibal she'll want to be there for him."

**NICO'S LAST SESSION**

Hannibal was careful to tuck the crudely twisted metal key in the drawstring waistband of his scrubs. He would not keep it in his mouth without knowing what Nico had in store for him. Especially since Emilia mentioned Nico might want to take a tooth. He would not need it until he was alone with Emilia. He must move on the pair separately. When the noose slipped over his head it was all he could do not to reach for the key and open the cuffs.

Nico dragged him back to the room with the metal table. Emilia followed as was the custom they had developed. She latched and secured Hannibal's cuffs to the chain. His arms were again restrained. This time a strap was secured across his forehead. Another secured around his neck and one over his waist, cinched tightly. He was fully unable to move his upper body. He could not even turn his face to the side.

Nico moved about the room in a very workmanlike manner. As he leaned across Hannibal's restrained body Hannibal picked up the scent of his own flesh mixed with a taxidermy preservative as well.

Hannibal searched the air with his nostrils and identified the location of his disembodied flesh. Nico had used the thin strips of flesh removed from Hannibal's side, now tanned and preserved, weaving them into a braid alongside his face.

"How charming, I see you have used my flesh to accessorize. I will have that back when I am free."

"You are an arrogant man and I find your confidence very amusing. It is no doubt a defense mechanism. I have enjoyed our time together Doctor Lecter. You are a most unusual man and it is a shame that you seem to find Emilia objectionable. If she has decided you will be of no use to her I may have to kill you soon. She will not wait forever for you compliance."

"Then it would seem we are at an impasse as I will never comply. I have a wife and she is perfection. Emilia cannot compare to my Clarice."

"Yes your wife is quite lovely. I would prefer her to Emilia as well if she did not appear to be so…aggressive though perhaps you enjoy a woman to take a more dominant role. I prefer a woman who knows her place."

Hannibal could see the table where Nico kept the items for the days planned activities. His blood ran cold. He would not be able to compartmentalize this pain. This day would be difficult. He attempted to remain focused on Nico to hold Panic at bay.

"Clarice knows her place. It is by my side." Hannibal stated as his eyes shifted once again to the objects his heart thumping slowly, his mind swirling with trepidation as he considered the objects designed for his torment.

Several large watering cans were placed side by side in a row to provide easy and quick access. Present also a thin muslin fabric folded neatly.

_This is not going to be easy...Stay with me Clarice. I will need your love this day._

Nico moved to the table and retrieved the thin fabric. Unfolding it he draped it loosely over the older man's face. Hannibal understood what would be happening to him. He realized that in mere moments that light cotton material would be more intrusive than any restraint mask he had ever worn.

"Have you heard of the term waterboarding, Doctor Lecter? It has been in use at least since the era of Vietnam. I am told through my research into such matters that the Khmer Rouge utilized such tactics."

Nico then very passively returned to his supplies and carried two of the large watering cans back to the steel table. He placed one on the floor behind the table and hefted the remaining container preparing to proceed. Hannibal closed his eyes and balled his cuffed hands into fists. He took a very deep breath and clenched his teeth preparing for what would be an exceptionally merciless assault.

_So it begins. _

Nico tilted the container filled with cold water and very slowly and steadily he began to pour the water directly over Hannibal's mouth and nose, the stream intrusive as it steadily flooded his sinus passages.

Hannibal thrashed and choked on the liquid as it poured unrelentingly down the back of his throat causing spasms that engaged his gag reflex. The thin fabric covering Hannibal's face became saturated very quickly and began to sink like a thick web draping into Hannibal's nostrils and his mouth. He choked and gagged, coughing up the water that had entered each orifice. The fabric continued to sag and invade the openings as well, holding the fluid just long enough to make the timing of clearing the liquid an impossibility.

Nico leaned over and whispered in Hannibal's ear.

"Before this time what we dealt with was merely pain but now it is much more than pain. You proved yourself equal to that and I was impressed. You are more than I thought the wolf not as old as once I believed. Now it is different. No longer mere pain…now it is terror…it is suffering…it may even be your death."

Nico began to pour the water again.

Hannibal spewed up fountains of water, attempting to eject it far enough away so that it did not fall back upon him. Still, mercilessly Nico poured and continued to taunt.

"We practiced before. We were testing each other's limits. I was learning your limits and you were learning mine. I know you do not enjoy your breath being stolen. The noose told me that. The flash of anger in your eyes when I tightened the cord around your throat…only the briefest insight, a snapshot of your ferocity, that was the only time I could feel your rage. You delivered the answer to me. I discovered your limits…You will find that I have none. If you wish me to stop…you need only cry out to Emilia. You need only call for her. When she takes you…I will have no further use though I would prefer it if you remained. Your anger is delicious to me."

The water began to pour again. Hannibal tried to turn his head to no avail. He was strapped in quite securely. There would be no way to avoid the flow. No way to stem the tide pouring into his nostrils and down the back of his throat. Snorting mucus and phlegm mixing with the water he was forced to swallow what he could not expel.

"You will soon see another level of anguish…Emilia fed you, did she not? If your body continues to heave you will no doubt vomit your meal. That will be quite difficult as you cannot turn your head. You may aspirate on your food."

Hannibal's eyes took on a volcanic glow swirling around the abyss of his pupils like molten hot lava. He pulled against the leather strap restraining his head. His body attempted to twist and turn pulling against the bonds. Still he could not free himself. As Hannibal's rage escalated, so did Nico's pleasure. When Hannibal noticed this he attempted to still himself.

"Ah…the wolf is wise and wants to limit my pleasure in this…no matter. You cannot avoid your body's reaction. There is a fight or flight response that is purely instinctual. Your mind is strong…very strong but your body wishes to survive. You will have no choice but to fight. I will drink your anger and be stronger for it."

Nico began to pour the water again, this time from a full watering pitcher. The fluid surged into Hannibal's sinus passages, burning the membranes with chlorine. Though his mind wanted stillness, his instincts fought to survive. Hannibal wretched attempting to purge the fluid, his body wracked in spasm, violently reacting in an attempt to survive the onslaught of this attack.

In his mind he screamed her name.

_CLAARRIICCEE!_

Hannibal's battle cry crashed like cymbals and slammed within his ears. Predator was strong. Predator would survive. He would not let Reason overrule. Though Reason wanted him still, Predator raged, unconcerned with the pathetic being pouring the water. Predator gasped and with each breath denied imagined a more painful death for the fool. He would tear his arms and legs from their sockets and beat him to death with the bloody stump-like limbs. He would chew the flesh from his face and feast on his organs. Soon, Predator would feed.

Hannibal could not flee to his memory palace. He could not remove himself. He was forced to remain present in order to keep himself from drowning. The pain was excruciating as every muscle fought to protect him. His body struggled so hard against the restraints that it appeared as if his bones would shatter from the effort.

Clarice awoke screaming. She thought she heard Hannibal calling out to her. He was in pain. He was desperate. He needed her and she could not find him. Clarice sobbed uncontrollably huddled in a fetal position clutching Hannibal's pillow as if holding comforting her husband himself, she was gasping for air, hyperventilating. Barney crashed into the room. Normally he would respect the sanctity of Hannibal and Clarice's bedroom but her anguish was too raw.

"I'm here Clarice…It's okay…you aren't alone." Barney consoled as he gently rubbed her back.

Suddenly the phone rang. Barney picked it up listened and as a smile crossed his face, hung up the phone.

"Clarice…Ardelia thinks they know where Hannibal's being held. We can meet them there I have the address.

Clarice scrambled to her feet.

"Are you fucking kidding me Barney?"

"It's only about a thirty minute ride from here."

Clarice reached for the keys to the mustang Hannibal purchased for her.

"I'll drive. We'll get there in fifteen."

_That's my girl! _

**Don't forget to review! I'd love to know what you think! After you review, drop me a pm and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	54. Chapter 54

**HELLO FELLOW LECTERPHILES! Read, Enjoy, Review! You know the drill! I don't own them. I just like taking them out to play! Thanks to Thomas Harris for creating Hannibal Lecter-GENIUS! **

**RESCUE OR REVENGE**

Hannibal struggled to hold onto his dinner, the battle for control over his digestive system as Herculian an effort as his violent attempts to expel the fluid flooding his respiratory system. He could feel the bile rise up the back of his throat and the gorge swelling as his stomach began to lurch.

_I'm not going to make it …No more time…_

Though his face remained covered Hannibal could see by the tilt of Nico's body and the angle of the vessel that he would have to switch to another water container soon. His captor would use that time to gloat. Hannibal held on, his stomach in spasm, his chest quaked as his body, desperate to purge, attempted to overrule his hold over it.

Finally, mercifully the water container ran dry.

Nico leaned over Hannibal his breath hot against his captive's cheek and dragged the wet material from Hannibal's face. In turn Hannibal closed his eyes and used the brief respite to breathe deeply and assert some control over his own physiology.

"There are four more containers. We will be here for quite some time yet and though it goes without saying, I am certain that I am enjoying this far more than you are. No matter as long as one of us is entertained."

Hannibal did not respond as his effort to suppress the ejection of his earlier meal was almost too much to bear.

Nico leaned over and very gently swept the hair from Hannibal's forehead. He rested the back of his hand against the skin.

"You have a fever…no doubt you are experiencing severe biological distress. I must commend you and thank you for rejecting Emilia's advances as this is a most pleasurable experience. You are far more than I understood…far more than even Emilia understands. I may kill her and keep you for myself. I only hope your heart does not fail before I am able to extract more enjoyment. Your agony is exquisite."

Nico leaned over and dragged his thick flat tongue across Hannibal's flesh licking the beads of perspiration the fever had formed along his forehead.

"Your suffering is delicious to me."

Nico turned to the table and moved to retrieve two additional containers. Placing one on the floor for quick access, he placed the second on the table in the space between Hannibal's legs.

Nico again leaned over Hannibal, this time placing a palm on his chest to feel the beat of Hannibal's heart thumping firmly against his ribs.

"Another example of your superiority is that your heart rate is unchanged. Most men and women I have had in this way have had severe cardiac issues. Yes…you are truly exceptional…absolutely singular in the amount of torment you are able to bear. I now understand Emilia's obsession. I may be unable to part with you as well."

Nico stretched over the table. Hannibal could feel the pressure of Nico's body coming into contact with his. Hannibal swallowed continuously as warm saliva flooded his mouth, he gagged on the emetic fluid.

_Closer…cloooser…_

Nico pressed his ear against Hannibal's rib cage to listen to his heartbeat. Just as Nico lifted his head, when his face was level and aligned, Hannibal wretched violently and disgorging the contents of his stomach all over Nico's face and chest. Hannibal coughed aggressively in an attempt to expel the partially digested contents before aspirating on it.

Nico initially startled but gathered himself and his composure. He scraped the vomit from his face he flicked his wrists and whipped handfuls of it onto the floor.

"Dearest Hannibal I do not blame you for that. Rather, I should thank you. We will suspend our activities long enough for you to be cleaned by Emilia and for me to shower quickly as well. I will then refill all eight of the containers and we will begin anew."

_He called me Hannibal…not Doctor Lecter…not Emilia's wolf…he will not kill me he will keep me. If this does not work I will rely on you Clarice…_

Nico rushed to the door yelling down the hall for Emilia.

"Woman, come in here I require your assistance."

Emilia appeared in the doorway very quickly. "Does my Hannibal need me?"

"He is no longer your Hannibal. If you clean when asked and prepare the meals I may be willing to share this magnificent beast with you as his sexual needs are not my concern but he will remain with us. I will not find a match to his tolerances and in his ability to displace pain I have yet to meet an equal. Yes he is quite a perfect specimen in that regard and is well suited to my needs. Unchain the cuffs. The meal you fed him has revisited and it is important that his dignity be preserved."

Emilia unchained the handcuffs and helped Hannibal lower his arms. She then moved to unbuckle the head and throat restraints. When finally she unlashed the belt around his waist, she placed a hand on his back for support and assisted as Hannibal sat up.

Hannibal was exhausted, his head hanging low between his shoulders, his breathing labored as fluid had entered his lungs.

Nico retrieved the pole and looped the noose around Hannibal's throat tightening it until the cord cinched the skin beneath it. Hannibal did not flinch remaining impassive though in reality he was preparing himself. He was waiting…his muscles, though pain filled were taut and coiled much like a king cobra preparing to strike.

He spoke excitedly, "Do you see? His flesh strains and still not a word of complaint, he begs not and that is unusual in the extreme. I am impressed with the dignity of the man under such duress. Yes…I will be unable to part with you my dear Hannibal. I am far too in love with the silence of your anguish. That is a rare gift for me to find in a participant. Most cry out and beg and that is not only disruptive, it is disrespectful. It defiles the dignity of the experience and dramatically lessens my enjoyment of it."

Nico shoved Hannibal from the chamber of his misery across the hall and through the bedroom he had been sharing with Emilia. He then forced Hannibal into the shower stall.

"Chain him to the rail in the shower and leave him to his privacy. I have enjoyed the water flowing over his body. I will allow him the same pleasure. I want him back with me in five minutes. You may soap him up and rinse him off but mind that you are expeditious. Do not linger over his form or I will lose my patience."

Emilia chained Hannibal to the rail. While she was helping to loosen the noose from his neck, Hannibal slipped his hand surreptitiously into the drawstring opening and pushed the small wire key into his palm wedging it along his fingers.

Nico moved quickly out of the room, anxious for his sadistic games to continue. He called to Emilia, "Five minutes…that is all."

Emilia stepped into the shower stall and reached around Hannibal's waistband to the drawstring. She loosened the knot and let the bottoms fall in a pool to the shower floor. She bent over to retrieve the soiled clothing and moved her body at an angle to better ogle Hannibal.

Noticing her interest he shifted his thigh forward, denying her the view she was seeking. As she moved to get a better view Hannibal pushed the makeshift key into the lock and wiggling and turning, opened the handcuffs efficiently and silently.

"Are you suddenly shy, Hannibal? You were always a man very comfortable in your own skin as I recall."

"My _skin_ is no longer my own. I am a married man and as such, my body is for my wife exclusively. I would ask that you respect my privacy in this. I will not ask you twice."

Emilia turned the spigot releasing the water and removed the hand held shower head to rinse his body. "I think it's charming that you are saving yourself for your wife. If it makes you feel better to say it I have no problem, honestly… I find it stimulating in the extreme. It makes me feel like I'm doing something naughty and I need to be punished and you know how much I love it when you punish me."

"I assure you Emilia if you choose to test my resolve you will suffer consequences that will be irreversible. I warn you that if you attempt to touch me once more, rest assured, I _will_ kill you."

"Your threats are merely foreplay."

Emilia reached around Hannibal's body and rubbed her hands across his abdomen. She pressed her body into his causing Hannibal to shift uncomfortably.

"Emilia I will not ask again."

Emilia began to kiss Hannibal's back, her hands moved first across his pectoral muscles then down the center of his torso, across his abdomen, spreading toward his hips. Hannibal stepped away from Emilia drawing her into the shower stall itself.

"I am not afraid of a little water…"

"It is not the water you should fear."

Hannibal spun within the stall and surged toward Emilia. He snapped one cuff on her hand and the other cuff on the shower rail. Her eyes flashed terror when she realized he was free. Before she could speak Hannibal drove his forearm against her throat and pressed very, very slowly. He whispered in her ear,

"Had you respected my wife and kept your hands to yourself I may have cuffed you to the rail and left you. You chose to ignore my warning…I will _not_ leave you."

Hannibal pressed harder growling deep and low. His eyes sparked like flames. Emilia shook her head in a desperate attempt to stay his wrath. Hannibal would not be swayed. He forced his arm further continuing the attack excruciatingly slow. Emilia almost cost him the love of his wife. She cost him some of Clarice's respect. She almost cost him his life. Emilia was defenseless and Hannibal was Rage.

"You wanted to feel my body against yours…you wanted my attention…now you have it!

Hannibal crushed the full weight of his naked body against hers, his musculature weighed heavy on her much smaller frame as he pressed forward and slowly caved her windpipe. He then forced his weight behind his shoulder and threw the forearm again, this time sending a devastating blow across her jawline. The force of the strike drove her head toward the tile at an unnatural angle. Hannibal grabbed her face in both hands. Looking into her eyes as the light began to leave them Hannibal gently kissed her forehead. He then quickly spun her head until he felt the snap of her vertebrae. Her body twitched for a moment as if she were in the throes of an orgasm. Hannibal held her and savored the feeling of her life fading from her. When the aftershocks stopped he slowly lowered her body to the floor of the shower her hand still cuffed to the rail.

Hannibal stepped over Emilia and slipped into the bedroom. Cautiously he opened the trunk and dressed himself quickly in a set of scrubs. He checked the closet and found a pair of sneakers. He stuffed his foot inside. They were a little tight but they would do. Hannibal laced them and left the bedroom.

Hannibal stood outside the door ready to face his tormentor. He could hear Nico moving around making preparations to add to that torment. Hannibal had other plans.

Hannibal was injured and exhausted. His body had reached its limit but he would ask more of it.

_Nico you are too dangerous to leave alive. You will die tonight. Because of our past, I owed Emilia a quick death. Not you… I will take my time with you as you took your time with me. Clarice will not be here to stop me…This time there will be blood…lots and lots of blood. _

**CLARICE**

Clarice sped through the streets of Baltimore and onto the interstate. Barney was in contact with Ardelia. "Yeah the way Clarice drives this car of hers…we'll beat you to the house. What do you want us to do?"

Ardelia asked to be put on speaker phone. Barney complied and Ardelia's voice could be clearly heard.

"Clarice, if you get there first you have to wait until we arrive with the warrant. This has to be done by the book or it'll get tossed out of court and those two travelling freaks will walk. Tell me you understand what I mean. We will enter together, we will watch each other's backs and we will get your husband out of there but we will do it the right way so they can't come back at you in the future. Understood?"

Clarice was steely eyed. "Understood, but once you present the warrant and we are through the door my only focus will be on H…I don't care what else happens I need my husband safe."

"I've got Logan and Lloyd with me. We'll enter and we will set Logan up outside in case one of them gets loose and he has to take a shot."

"I'm only two minutes from that address Dee so you'd better move the cavalry along! I'm not waiting more than five minutes outside that house. After that all bets are off and I'm going in to get my husband with or without backup."

Clarice nodded and Barney disconnected the line.

Clarice punched her foot against the accelerator of the mustang forcing it fully to the floor.

"Fuck five minutes…when we get there…I'm going in!"

**Hope you're enjoying the ride! Don't forget to review and let me know what you think!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	55. Chapter 55

**Hello Dear Friends! Read, Enjoy, Review!**

**HANNIBAL'S TRUE NATURE**

Hannibal listened carefully at the door. Nico did not have the predatory advantages that Hannibal had. Nico could not sense Hannibal's presence in the doorway. He would not be able to predict Hannibal's movements or his responses as he did not have the sensory gifts this predator had honed. He could not pick up on the older man's scent. He did not possess the unusual eyes able to see in almost no light. Soon, he would no longer have Hannibal's weapon either.

The Harpy has been tossed in a box under the table where the water vessels had been organized. Hannibal used a very specific method of cleaning and sharpening the blade preferring an oil stone to a whetstone. He added bergamot to the mineral oil he used as he found the high note released upon sharpening pleasant in the extreme. This combination generated a very distinctive scent. That mixed with the scent of Hannibal's flesh burnished upon the blade made the placement of it in the room absolutely precise. Nico would not be able to locate it as quickly as Hannibal. Nico relied on his eyesight. Hannibal had a variety of sensory tools at his disposal. Nico had no such advantage.

Hannibal stepped very slowly into the room. He had one weapon at his disposal…The room itself.

Hannibal reached for the long pole with the noose Nico had leaned near the door. He swung the pole and hooked the noose over the only light source in the room, the large construction spotlight. Hannibal twisted his body forcefully swinging the pole and releasing it like an Olympic hammer throw.

Nico heard the sound and spun to see the large lamp crash against the far wall. The halogen lamps exploded and the room went dark. The only available light was now coming from the hallway and streaming in through the open door.

Hannibal cut an imposing figure back lit in the doorway, eyes glowing with rage. He had tasted the experience of life leaving Emilia. Now he wanted…no…not wanted…he needed more. His hunger for revenge was cavernous. He would fill it with blood.

"It would seem that your woman has had a bit of an accident. Many household injuries occur in the bath. She was quite careless and now she is dead."

Nico turned to Hannibal and smiled. "It seems that you have saved me the trouble of disposing of the wench myself. Thank you."

"You are entirely welcome. I enjoyed it very much. I believe your death will be equally fulfilling."

"I will not be killing you, Hannibal. I will be keeping you. You would prefer death I'm sure but you are far too magnificent to be killed quickly. I will savor your agony for years to come."

"I _will_ be killing _you_, though not quickly. I will store the memory in a very special place...a windowless room where only_ I_ can see."

With that, Hannibal slammed shut the heavy door. Hearing the approaching roar of a mustang engine echo down the long hallway he was certain to turn the lock as well.

**BARNEY AND CLARICE**

The wheels of the mustang spun and smoked as Clarice rounded the last corner to enter the dead end street where the rental house stood. She immediately got out of the car. Before closing the door she leaned in.

"You wait here for Ardelia and the guys."

Barney shook his head. "No way…if you're going in I'm going with you. Hannibal will kill me himself if I let you go in alone."

Clarice nodded. "Okay just promise to stay close."

Barney was sweating. "You're the only one here with a gun…I don't have to be told that twice."

Clarice moved to the front door and pounded on it.

"F.B.I.! Open the door we have a warrant!" Clarice paused. No answer. She rang the doorbell and pounded on the door again. "Open the door! This is you final warning!"

"Looks like we've got to make a decision, Clarice…are we waiting or are we going in?" Barney asked although he already knew the answer.

"We're going in." Clarice drew her weapon.

"That's what I thought." Barney backed up. "Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound."

Clarice aimed at the lock and pulled the trigger exploding the cheap wood of the door and sending splinters flying. The door swung open in surrender.

"After you Agent Starling," Barney said with a smile.

"Agent Starling would have waited for her backup," she stated as she stepped into the doorway, checking the corners before moving into the room. "I'm Hannibal's wife… the only thing I follow is my H."

Barney smiled. "Okay Mrs. Lecter…I'm with you. Let's go find your hubby."

**HANNIBAL'S REVENGE**

Possessing the ability to move with uncommon stealth, Hannibal slipped from the doorway silently and moved past the metal table. He knew its exact location because although Nico had rinsed the table and floor, the scent of the purged meal was still upon it.

Hannibal had already determined the distance between the autopsy table and the area where the Harpy was stored. It took Nico eight paces to move between them. While strapped to the table he had counted the distance each and every time Nico moved to retrieve another one of his instruments of anguish as it provided a brief respite.

"Where are you Hannibal?" Nico searched with his voice, the only sense functional in this darkness being his hearing. He hoped Hannibal would be foolish enough to answer and give him his bearings.

_What does this idiot think this is? A game of Marco Polo?_

Hannibal was not. He had no such need to detect Nico as the smell of fear was so very thick in the room. Hannibal located the box and reached carefully within taking only seconds to retrieve the Harpy. Now that he was adequately armed Hannibal needed to find a way to disable Nico quickly. He knew from the roar of the mustang's engine that Clarice would not be long.

_You are Beauty, Clarice. I would spare you from this beast._

Hannibal positioned himself at the head of the metal table and moved the leather strap at the neck mounting, making sure to drag the buckle just enough to make it seem accidental.

Nico was alerted.

Hannibal then backed up to the broken halogen fixture. He located that by the smell of the burnt out lamps, now exposed. He felt along the ground to find the pole he used to heave it. Very slowly he loosened the noose and withdrew it from the machine.

"Are you returning to the table because you yearn for my attentions, Hannibal?"

No answer would be forthcoming. Hannibal carried the pole with him and returned to the table.

Nico wanted more information. He was totally blind and though he knew the room fairly well, his bearings were off and he was having difficulty centering himself in the space.

"Or would you rather forego the honor and allow me the pleasure of your lovely wife's company. Her lovely pale skin would burn far easier than yours. I believe I detected the prominent sound of a mustang just before you closed us in. Perhaps that is the reason you locked the door. It couldn't have been to keep Emilia out as you had already killed her. Though you so selfishly denied me yours, I promise you that I will hear her screams. Perhaps when I cut the child from her womb and crush it's skull under my feet?"

"You will not live long enough to see my child, Nico. You will be dead quite soon. The stench of decay is already upon you."

Hannibal swung the pole in a circle above his head to open the noose. He then whipped it straight over the area where Nico's voice, combined with his scent, gave Hannibal the bearings.

Hannibal realized he had accurately measured when the pole struck the taller man's shoulders. He then whipped the cable back, tightened the noose and dropped quickly to his knees. Hannibal wedged the base of the pole into the drain in the floor and using the momentum of Nico himself, flipped the taller man over and lifted him like a pole vault and with great force slammed him onto the metal table.

There was a loud, _Ooofff! _as the wind was knocked out of Nico.

Hannibal scrambled to secure the belt he had just positioned over Nico's throat. He then grabbed Nico's hands and used the waist belt to strap them across his body effectively trapping them.

Hannibal circled the table like a lion would circle an antelope. "How does it feel to be the _participant_ my friend…we are friends are we not?"

"You would be wise to release me…if you kill me your wife will not take kindly to it. How do you think she would feel being married to a murderer?"

Hannibal continued to circle the table, speaking the entire time so that Nico would know exactly where in the room he was. His pace was slow…deliberate. He leaned over the man's restrained body as he spoke, his voice low and metallic taking on that hissing dungeon taunt.

"Please, you will have to do far better than that. My wife knows every aspect of every so-called crime I have ever committed and as such knows full well to whom she is married. A warning that she has taken as many lives as I and you held a knife to the child she carries. You endangered the life she would die to protect. I merely have my Harpy. My Love has a Colt slung low on her magnificent hip. If she perceives our family to be in danger she would not deny me your life nor would she hesitate to take that life herself. You would do well not only to respect her power but to fear her anger. My wife is a warrior."

"Your wife is a woman and as such is weak. I fear no female."

Nico began to struggle against the bonds though it would be of no use. Hannibal, still feeling the pains on both sides of his body, still tasting the water that flooded his system was aching to deliver pain of his own.

"Soon I will attend to you in much the same way you attended to me. I wonder how long it will take before I hear your screams. I doubt you have the ability to hold your tongue. You used that vile organ to taste my pain. When you open your mouth to scream prepare well as I will tear it from you."

**EX-SPECIAL AGENT STARLING**

Clarice and Barney moved down the long hallway with their backs pressed firmly against the wall. Clarice wagged her head signaling to the terrified man that she would enter the first bedroom, Nico's room. Clarice ducked in, checking each corner and moving along the wall, keeping her back protected and her eyes forward scanning forward. When she determined the room was empty she moved back to Barney.

Barney lifted his chin_. Anything?_ he seemed to ask.

Clarice shook her head negatively. Barney nodded and followed as Clarice moved forward to the next room, Hannibal and Emilia's room.

Again, the same drill, Clarice entered, Barney watched the hallway. This room presented a different set of problems as it had an adjoining bath. Clarice slipped into the bathroom. She saw the body.

_Well you got one of them, H. Now where in the hell are you?_

Clarice waved Barney into the bedroom. Barney entered, glad to get out of the long hallway.

"That hallway has me creeped out. I keep thinking of those twins in the movie The Shining."

Clarice laughed. "Well don't look in the bathroom then 'cuz H got Emilia. She's hanging by a handcuff in the shower stall. He must have wanted to be quiet. It looks like he broke her neck and that's not usually his style although that creepy fuck Emilia had with her probably took his Harpy."

Clarice's cell buzzed in her pocket. She quickly retrieved it. "Hey Dee."

"Jesus Clarice…I thought I told you to stay outside. Now the warrant is useless."

"It was useless to begin with. Hannibal got Emilia. I have no idea where he is in the house. Emilia's twisted fuck of a friend is missing too. Just stay put. As soon as I know what we're up against, I'll call."

Clarice pocketed the cell and turned to move up the hallway. Suddenly, at the end of the hallway, behind a fortified door, wails of anguish began.

Barney looked at Clarice, an eyebrow raised. "It doesn't sound like him."

"Oh it's H or right. He just isn't the one who is screaming."

**NICO'S END**

Hannibal was frankly shocked that the mere point of the Harpy barely entering the pectoral muscle would have caused such an anguished cry.

"Really Nico? That barely would have registered as discomfort to me. No more than a stitch in a muscle. Wasn't it you that claimed begging and screaming would sully the dignity of this process. Though your anguish is as delicious to me as my silence was to you…rest assured I will enjoy this much more than you will."

Hannibal took his Harpy and used the hooked talon to tear the buttons from Nico's shirt.

"Get off me you wolf! Get off me!" Nico screamed in hysterics.

"Oh, I am the wolf again? What happened to Hannibal? Do you no longer wish me to remain?"

Nico thrashed at the restraints. "Get away from me!"

Hannibal hissed in Nico's ear, "No, I am enjoying this far too much to stop now."

Hannibal tore open Nico's shirt and smoothed his hand over the man's ribs and sternum. "Now exactly where is that black heart of yours?"

Again, Nico struggled trying to shift Hannibal's hands from him.

Finding the pulsing organ, Hannibal dragged the Harpy across the flesh creating an 'X' in the flesh.

"X marks the spot!" Hannibal teased.

Nico howled in pain and terror.

Hannibal mused, "It is a shame that we have company as I would love to open the door and let the light in the room. No matter. The visual loss will be a minor inconvenience. You will feel every delicious sting. Every probe and you will pray for death."

Suddenly the moment was interrupted by a pounding on the door.

"It would seem that my lovely wife has arrived. No matter. I am almost finished. She will forgive me my rudeness in making her wait."

Hannibal took his Harpy and very slowly pierced the flesh between Nico's ribs just above the beating heart now tripping dangerously at the biological limit.

Nico's terror so raw that he could barely scream as his mouth hung open, gasping terror. He fear halted his howls choking them in the back of his throat. He was barely vocalizing as Hannibal used his Harpy and cut the braid from Nico's head. "I told you that I would collect this." He stuffed it in the breast pocket of the scrubs.

On the other side of the door, Clarice, Barney and Ardelia were pounding on the door. Logan and Lloyd were called in to help. Hannibal ignored the noise.

Clarice to the men. "What do you boys think?"

Barney considered the situation. "I think the door is reinforced but not the frame. If we hit it hard enough it will open."

Ardelia nodded. "All right men…Go for it!"

Barney, Logan and Lloyd moved back and charged forward, each crashing a shoulder into the door. The door rattled in the frame.

Hannibal whispered in Nico's ear. "It would seem that my family has arrived to collect me. Your end is near…I would like a gift for my wife…her birthday is tomorrow and you have occupied me to the point that I have not had time to shop for her. If you will allow me…"

Hannibal reached into the hole created by the Harpy. He pressed and stretched his fingers, spreading the opening with excruciating pressure. Hannibal slowly probed the depths of muscle, tearing the sinews by hand. The wound yawned open under Hannibal's intrusion, blood poured forth allowing Hannibal to twist his hand deeper and deeper into the thoracic cavity.

Nico's body lurched and quaked. There was a gurgling rising from his throat.

Hannibal reached between the ribs, spread his fingers within the cavity and clutched the villian's beating heart.

Hannibal whispered in his ear. "You lived your life a heartless bastard. Now…I will end your life as such."

At the moment Hannibal reached the organ, Barney burst into the room, the frame finally giving way under his power.

Light flooded the room as Hannibal tore the pulsing organ from Nico's body.

Nico twitched, eyes wide and unblinking.

Hannibal relished Nico's life flickering and held the pulsing organ up for Nico to see. Hannibal lifted the blood covered organ to his mouth and ripped into in with his teeth. He then spit the beating flesh in Nico's face.

Barney, Logan and Lloyd stood in the doorway mouth agape at the vision of Hannibal, maroon eyes flashing in rage, blood and cardiac tissue dripping from his face.

Logan shook his head and spoke incredulously, "Dude…_dude_…"

Clarice stepped into the room. She processed the scene quickly realizing that Hannibal was severely injured and probably in shock. "Whatcha got in your hand H?"

Hannibal held it out. "A gift…for you."

"I appreciate the thought but I've already got one so why don't you put that back where you got it."

Hannibal jammed the heart back into the opening.

"Dude!" Logan reiterated.

Clarice moved to Hannibal putting her arms around his waist. He winced in pain. Concerned, Clarice lifted Hannibal's shirt and saw all of his wounds. She gasped.

"That mother fucker!" she walked over to the body, unbuckled the straps and pumped four rounds into the chest obliterating any evidence of Hannibal's handiwork. She holstered her weapon turned to her friends and said, "He had my husband so I shot him. That's how it went down…any questions?"

**I hope this lived up to your expectations my friends! Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	56. Chapter 56

**Welcome back my fan fic friends!**

**THE RECOVERY**

Hannibal stood, his chest heaving his lungs still struggling to vent the fluid. Dizzy from hyperventilation and understanding the stresses his body was experiencing he leaned a hand of support on the table.

Logan turned to Barney. "Dude, I'm no Doctor but I think he's going down."

Endorphins and adrenalin beginning to bottom out, pain flooded Hannibal's system. Suddenly his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled.

Thankfully Clarice noticed his discomfort and had moved closer and put her arms around him. When he began to black out she was able to grab him and brace him up against the table. Hannibal was dead weight however and she could not hold him long.

"I need some help guys!" she held her husband very tightly and whispered in his ear, "I've got you H. I've got you."

Contact with the wounds on his side caused Hannibal to stir to consciousness. He groaned in pain.

Realizing she was gripping him where his injuries were most raw. Clarice leaned him over the table to take the pressure off his torso worried about the site where the skin had been removed from his side. She could see blood seeping through his shirt. The newly forming scabs had begun to separate as Hannibal's collapsing body hitting the table forced his flesh apart.

Barney rushed to Hannibal's side and lifted him to relieve Clarice. "Give me a hand Logan. Put those biceps to work."

Logan scooped Hannibal in his arms, easily lifted him and held him gently. He looked beside the table at the wet fabric and the empty water containers. Logan's time with the Marine Corp gave him an immediate understanding of what Hannibal endured.

"Look at all the empty containers. Do you see that wet cloth? I think they water boarded him Clarice."

Clarice looked around the room at the overwhelming evidence of her husband's torture. "Jesus what did they do to you H?"

Hannibal spoke between strained respirations. "Nothing… I couldn't… handle…my…Love."

"Bullshit. They hurt you." his wife fumed.

"I hurt…them…more." he commented through a weakened though still wicked grin.

Barney took a stethoscope out of his hip pocket listened to Hannibal's chest and evaluated the wounds quickly. "He definitely has a fever. It's probably an infection from the open wounds on his side. There's fluid in his lungs. Clarice he's going to need medical attention. He'll need antibiotics at the least."

Hannibal shook his head, "No…home…please, Clarice…home."

"You heard the man…c'mon Logan, let's get him in the car and take him home. Barney, do you know a Doctor that we can get to come out to the house? All we need are the antibiotics. I can take care of him."

Barney immediately had someone in mind. "Yeah, I can get someone to check him out and write a prescription without a problem."

Lloyd was up to his elbows in evidence. He was moving very slowly around the room documenting the scene, collecting evidence and bagging it. He looked up briefly, "I'm staying so can someone come back later, I'll need a ride."

Ardelia nodded, "I'll just go help with the transfer and come right back. While I'm gone you can call in the coroner and have him bag the bodies before they start to stink. We should get someone down here to photograph the scene as well."

Lloyd took out his cell phone. "I'm on it."

Logan carried Hannibal to the car, placed him gently on the front passenger seat. He then reached across his body and buckled the seat belt pausing for a moment with his hand on Hannibal's shoulder. He spoke very respectfully, "I'm proud to be your friend Hannibal…you're one tough son of a bitch."

A weakened smile crossed Hannibal's face. "Much… appreciated…Logan."

Logan and Barney rode with Ardelia. Clarice got behind the wheel to drive her husband back to their home. She glanced over at Hannibal, his blazing maroon eyes fixed on the trees passing overhead.

Clarice mused at how much had changed since he drove her from Muskrat Farm and tended to her wounds. She knew that Hannibal's brilliant mind had already made the connection. "Does this remind you of anything H?"

Hannibal turned his head and nodded with an amused glint flashing in his crimson eyes. "Roles…reversed…but _I _carried _you_…Clarice."

"Yeah…sorry I needed Logan. I'm already carrying Hannibal Junior…I couldn't handle Senior as well! I'll have you home in no time H…I'll take good care of you, just like you took care of me when I was hurt."

Hannibal closed his eyes finally feeling secure. "If I am…beside you… Clarice…I'll be… fine."

Clarice, Logan and Ardelia were able to settle Hannibal very quickly. Barney was on the phone arranging for a doctor to examine Hannibal. Within the hour Ardelia and Logan had returned to the crime scene and Barney was escorting the doctor up the stairs to see Hannibal.

When Doctor Woodhall entered Hannibal's bedroom, seeing Clarice resting on the bed beside Hannibal and remembering she was an ex-F.B.I. agent, he wasn't certain Doctor Lecter would acknowledge their prior association.

Hannibal recognized the scent of the man and opened his eyes. "It's good…to see you… again."

Clarice was initially confused about the association until Hannibal reached out to greet the Doctor using his left hand instead of his right.

The doctor smiled at the gesture. He grasped Hannibal's hand and was heartened to feel the strength of his grip. Doctor Woodhall turned the hand over and attempted to covertly examine the scar.

Clarice realized this must have been the surgeon who repaired Hannibal's hand. She wanted him to know how much she appreciated that effort on Hannibal's behalf.

"I want to thank you, Doctor Woodhall. You did one hell of a job. It seems my husband makes a habit of needing your services. It is so kind of you to come out here. My H draws far too much attention as it is. If we brought him to the hospital it would have been an absolute nightmare. He spent too many years on public display. I'm trying to spare him that when I can."

Doctor Woodhall was surprised Clarice would have mentioned the covert operation and her husband's years of incarceration. He moved to Hannibal's side and began to assess him, slipping a blood pressure cuff over Hannibal's right arm.

Woodhall was tentative. He desperately wanted the answer to a question that had formed in his mind and had stayed with him since that night on the Chesapeake. Curiosity overcame him. He approached the subject cautiously.

"You are a frank woman, Mrs. Lecter and being that you understand my previous relationship with your husband, would you do me the favor of answering a personal question?"

"After what you have done for my husband, I'll answer anything Doctor." Clarice stated confidently.

He paused to check the reading and being satisfied with the result slipped the cuff off Hannibal's arm, and used his stethoscope to listen to Hannibal's chest before he continued his line of questioning. The Doctor's tone was quiet and tinged with curiosity.

"I was working at a local hospital at the time of your husband's injury. I expected some kind of bulletin alerting us to keep an eye out for someone admitted with a severed limb. No such bulletin was received and I was wondering why the F.B.I. kept that information confidential? It would stand to reason that the injury would have made him quite easy to detect."

Clarice paused but realizing Woodhall could obviously be trusted with the information she chose to answer, "The F.B.I. didn't provide the information because they didn't have the information. I kept it out of my report."

"My wife is… an amazing…and surprising… woman…is she not?" Hannibal stated with pride. He reached for his wife's hand and held it.

"Now that I have been privileged to meet your wife and to know the answer to that question, yes Doctor Lecter I'd have to agree." Doctor Woodhall checked the wounds. He cleaned and trimmed the dead skin away from the burns, treated the area and dressed the wounds. He did the same for the area where the flesh had been removed. He then started an i.v. line.

When finished the doctor again shook Hannibal's hand.

"Try to stay out of harm's way, Doctor Lecter."

"I will…do my...utmost…Doctor Woodhall…thank you."

The doctor then handed Clarice a bag filled with supplies.

"Antibiotics and pain medication…the instructions are on the bottles. I've also included everything you will need to clean and dress the wounds. He'll have to do some breathing exercises to help out with the lungs. In the bag you'll find the standard 'raise the little balls' breathing contraption. Make sure he uses it."

"I will Doctor…and again, my thanks for taking care of my husband."

"It is and has been my pleasure, Mrs. Lecter."

Barney escorted the doctor out of the home, got in his car and very quietly left Clarice and Hannibal to begin the healing process.

Clarice undressed and got into bed though she stayed fairly far from her husband concerned about his wounds.

Hannibal gestured for her to take her usual place at his side.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, H…I don't want to disturb your injuries."

Hannibal continued to pat the bed beside him. "Please Clarice…I have…been without…you long…enough."

Clarice nodded and joined him. She placed a down pillow against her husband's side over the area where the burns were located to provide cushioning and separation. She then very carefully rested beside him.

"No…Clarice…I… need sleep…rest here."

Hannibal patted his hand on his chest where Clarice customarily placed her head as they slept.

"No H…that's too much," she worried.

He repeated the gesture. "Please…Clarice…I need you…to sleep."

Resigned to his request and more than relieved to have him back with her Clarice very carefully rested her head on her husband's chest.

"I love you H…I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. I'm so sorry they hurt you."

"I love…you…more, Clarice."

"I'll give you that this time, H…I won't even argue the point…you've earned it."

Hannibal smiled and encircled her body with his arms and closed his eyes. Within moments his breathing deepened and Clarice realized he was sleeping.

She listened to his breathing, so labored, so stressed and gently smoothed a hand across his chest.

Clarice realized that his psychological wounds would be deeper than those visible. She also understood that he would not acknowledge that injury to her…maybe not to himself either but the scars would appear nonetheless. It frightened Clarice to know that.

Clarice had seen that familiar look of something primal flash in his eyes as he tore the heart from Nico's chest. Then…within a split second, she saw the physical shock of his injuries begin to overwhelm him and she saw something very unfamiliar. Something she had never seen in Hannibal. There was almost a look of confusion that moved across his features… innocence as he offered the organ to her as a gift. It was as if he had picked a card from a shelf.

Clarice drifted to sleep with thoughts of Hannibal, cardiac muscle laced between his teeth, blood dripping from his mouth, his only thought…a gift for her.

This situation… two new killings and though completely justified and not anything Hannibal sought out it would set them on a new path. A setback…perhaps though that is not certain. He had to kill to survive.

His instincts had served him well. He had survived. He came back to her.

_I promised you would never be scarred again…it was my fault…you went with them to save me…everything you've done has been to save me._

Clarice closed her eyes. She would finally sleep though she was still very worried about her husband.

_Why couldn't we find you before you had to kill again and what's that going to do to you H?_

It wouldn't be long before she would find out.

**Don't forget to review! Let me know what you think Then pm and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	57. Chapter 57

**Welcome back my fan fic friends! Thanks for your dedication! Read, Enjoy, Review!**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLARICE**

Hannibal rose before the sun in order to cook a large breakfast for Clarice to begin her birthday celebration. He squeezed orange juice, made blueberry pancakes, home fries, bacon, a frittata with baby spinach and cheese, and a large fruit salad. He was careful to remember her favorite breakfast foods, aside from the sausage and egg sandwich at the local fast food restaurant which made his stomach wretch to think of his wife's palate was becoming more discerning.

For her birthday, she would have what she loved. What she loved was Hannibal.

Never one to wait until the last minute, thankfully the ever prepared husband had purchased a gift for Clarice and needed only pick it up. Not trusting his body to drive as of yet, after some cajoling the jeweler agreed to deliver the gift for a fee. The florist had arrived as well. All was ready.

Clarice woke with the sun expecting Hannibal to be sleeping soundly beside her. He had been through so much. She assumed he would sleep in.

The scents wafting from the kitchen filled Clarice's nasal passages and drifted over her taste buds. Her now watering mouth having been teased active by the permeating aromas. Sizzling bacon beckoned Clarice from the bedroom. Upon entering the kitchen she smiled. Hannibal had filled the breakfast bar with dozens of flowers and had set up a buffet along the glistening granite counter top.

"Happy Birthday my Love," Hannibal exclaimed as she entered. He approached his wife, arms wide.

"It's only happy because you came back to me," Clarice spoke gently as she filled his arms, "I was terrified." She was obviously still very disturbed by the events of the last several days and Hannibal understood she would need to process the experience. He had hoped it would not have to be today.

"It wasn't as if I enjoyed my time away from you Clarice," Hannibal teased. "Not the most pleasant of experiences I assure you."

Clarice placed her arms around his neck cautious of the various injuries to his body. "I hope you'll talk to me about what happened. I want to know what you went through… to help if I can."

Hannibal nuzzled his wife's neck, smoothing her hair back with his nose as he searched the soft skin with his lips. Upon mention of his recent trauma Hannibal pulled back momentarily, disconcerted by the thought.

"Clarice the only thing I need is your arms around me. Nico is dead. Emilia is dead. There is nothing more they can do to harm either of us and that is all I care about. You are safe and we are together and nothing will change that. What more do you think need be said?"

He returned his attention to the area where her pulse throbbed just below her jawline. He teased it with his tongue and teeth.

Clarice continued, "I just thought you might like to get some things off your chest."

This time choosing not to cease his pleasure, he talked against her skin creating a humming vibration that tickled her. "There are a few things I'd like to get off your chest," he growled playfully as he reached for the clasp of her bra.

"Don't you think talking helps?" Clarice pursued, though Hannibal was obviously not at all interested in the topic.

Seeing that his wife had hold of the topic and would not let go, Hannibal sought to appease. He was not going to discuss the matter, especially not on this day though he would have to phrase it differently.

"Talking helps some people not all. If I have need Clarice, I will most assuredly avail myself of your loving offer." Hannibal guided Clarice to the table and pulled a chair out for her. "Sit…please."

Clarice took her seat allowing Hannibal to push her closer to the table. He picked a linen napkin and with a flourish snapped the fabric to unfold it. He then placed it across his wife's lap and in doing so, brushed a whisper of a kiss across her lips. A shiver of desire danced up her spine at the contact. She reached for his tie before he could move fully away.

"Not so fast H. You can't get away from me that easily!"

Hannibal returned and smoothed his hands over her shoulders. He trilled his fingers across her collarbone, reached around and tenderly kissed her throat.

"I don't recall saying I wished to get away. I had believed that you might have a bit more energy if I provided a well-balanced breakfast. Being a bit under the weather I will rely on your physicality in the bedroom as I will be somewhat restricted. As you can see my motives are purely mercenary."

Clarice's voice was filled with concern though she sought humor to make her point, "No this week the bedroom is for sleeping only. You'll have to holster that weapon for a while."

Undeterred, he pursued her throat, teasing now with his teeth. He whispered low in her ear, "I don't keep my weapon in a holster Clarice. Currently it is in my pants."

Clarice shrugged him off and laughing slapped him playfully, "Yeah is that the Harpy in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

Hannibal wrapped his arms around her and continued the off-color banter, "Both. You can easily distinguish between them as the Harpy is quite a bit smaller…getting smaller by the minute actually."

Quite pleased with his contribution to the reparte' Hannibal kissed Clarice then reached for her throat and let his hand rest stroking his thumb over her pulse point to test her resolve as he escalated the contact. He very tentatively moved his tongue across her lips pressing gently at the joining.

Clarice kept her lips still tightly closed in faux defiance.

Considering her refusal a challenge, Hannibal teased at her lips with his teeth, grazing across the tender flesh. He probed with his tongue, not attempting to enter her mouth instead pressing and sliding his tongue tasting the flesh at the separation of her lips. Feeling her pulse begin to thump quickly he pulled away for a moment, his eyes remained closed as smile of deeply felt satisfaction emerged, "Hmmmm, you are delicious my Love. It is a pity that we will be unable to pursue this further."

Again she reached for him. "Okay…I give up…you win. Come back H."

Hannibal lowered his head to his wife, claiming her mouth with far more fervor than moments before covering her mouth fully with his.

Leaning over his wife was not conducive, the `location of his injuries pulled causing discomfort so he reached with an arm backward to locate another chair. Pulling it toward him, without losing contact with his wife's lips Hannibal took a seat and positioning the chair so that one knee was in between one of Clarice's legs and his other leg on the outside. He pulled her into his body.

Clarice settled against him reached under his arms, and rested her head on his chest. He covertly slipped a hand into the pocket of his trousers and retrieved a small box neatly wrapped.

Hannibal then turned her face to his, "Happy Birthday Clarice."

Clarice was surprised that he had a gift for her after all he had been through. "When did you get this done, H?"

"I had it designed especially for you more than a month ago. I don't know why you are surprised. It isn't as if I haven't known the date for many years. How could I miss my first opportunity to share it with you? I would never forgive myself if I had."

He placed the box in her hands. A small tag was attached written in flawless copperplate. _To my wife Clarice on her birthday with all my love, H_

Clarice very carefully opened the wrapping paper and removed the small velvet box. She held her breath as she flipped open the lid. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the contents. It took her a moment to realize she was still holding the inhalation.

She gasped, "Oh my god, H this is spectacular!"

Within the box a ring with a 3 carat princess cut diamond in center, the band had channels that alternated similarly cut diamonds, garnets and topaz all ringing the platinum band.

"Allow me my Love."

Hannibal removed the ring from the box and placed it on Clarice's right hand kissing the hand before releasing it.

"What is the significance of the stones? Are they birthstones?"

"The garnets represent my birth month, January. The topaz is your month, December and the baby will be born in April, thus the diamonds. The center diamond is three carats signifying that our family has three members. I hope you like it. I wanted our first celebration together to be special."

Clarice reached for his thighs and massaged the muscles. "Every moment I am with you is special, Hannibal…you are a wonderful husband and the best thing I've ever done was let you into my life."

"Hannibal? Not H? One would think you would be happy, not angry with me."

"Not out of anger…I wanted to hear the sound of it. I wanted to remember the first time I called you by your Christian name…do you?"

Hannibal remembered asking her to call his name at the moment of her rapture… the night of their first joining…the night when he ceased to be alone. He thought of it often. In the company of Nico, it was the memory he called on the most. He offered that fact to her.

Leaning closer he whispered huskily in her ear. "That will be the moment I will call to me when I close my eyes for the last time. I will never forget it. I want you to know how often I have thought of it these last days. It saved me then…it saves me now."

Clarice leaned over and kissed him. "That means so much to me…I wanted to be with you."

"You were with me Clarice…you are with me always. Now you must allow me to serve you and we will begin your day. I have much planned."

Hannibal served Clarice and the pair enjoyed their breakfast, Clarice occasionally paused to spin the ring around her finger with her thumb as she accustomed herself to its welcome presence on her hand. Even more than her wedding ring, this ring represented his love and the completion of their family. He had put great thought into it. It was significant to them both.

The day went as planned. Hannibal did not miss a single detail even arranging for a large dinner at a restaurant in Baltimore with their friends as they would not see them over the Christmas holiday. The day and evening had been perfect.

Clarice and Hannibal returned to their home, retiring to the bedroom. Hannibal had started a fire in the fireplace and stoked it until it roared, adding a smoky warm glow throughout the bedroom. Hannibal was still dressed when Clarice returned from the bathroom dressed in a silk robe. Her hair spilled over her shoulders.

Hannibal looked up from the conflagration awestruck, "Clarice…you look beautiful."

"Prove it," she challenged flirtatiously.

Hannibal rushed to her side, removing articles of his clothing tossing them aside as he walked. "I will make it my goal to prove it several times tonight in honor of your birthday, my Love."

By the time he reached Clarice, he was down to his trousers and belt. He stepped out of his shoes as he stood before her. Clarice reached for his belt and tugged the metal fitting from the leather. She then reached for the fastening of his pants, pausing for a moment.

Hannibal's crimson eyes blazed in anticipation. She met his gaze. "Are you certain this is okay? I don't want to hurt you. The wounds are…"

He interrupted, "The wounds are superficial, Clarice. You needn't concern yourself. If we avoid direct contact, I will be no worse for the wear. You cannot hurt me."

"If you're sure…" she spoke tentatively as she reached for the clasp of his trousers.

He grasped her hips and moved against her, dropping his chin over her shoulder as she slipped his trousers and boxers over his hips letting them slide to the ground. Hannibal side stepped the clothing and reached around his wife, clasping his hands together and resting them on the curve of her back just above her bottom. He shifted his hips against hers molding their bodies together.

Hannibal began to nibble and suck at the soft curve of skin where her neck and shoulder curved. He bit down and held a small bite of muscle in his mouth, sucking hard against the flesh.

A soft moan escaped her throat and Hannibal groaned against her skin at the sound of it. The anticipation of their coupling combined with this soft inflection caused a shudder to move through his body. The vibration of this response, combined with his now more than obvious arousal pressing against her body caused Clarice to smile.

"Am I getting to you already, H?" she taunted as she undulated her hips against him.

"Uhhh huuhhh…" was all he managed as his mouth worked from her neck to the divot of flesh centered at her collarbone. He drove his tongue into the indentation, swirling it at the center capturing her breath from the pressure.

"Mmmmm, H…bed."

"Unnhhhh Uhhh…fire."

Clarice looked at the area in front of the fireplace. Hannibal had placed a two large down comforters and several oversized pillows before the hearth. He lifted Clarice, carried her to the center of the bedding, lowering her carefully. He covered her with his body.

Hannibal and Clarice spent the next hour exploring each other's bodies searching for sensitivity, probing.

Clarice had been facing her husband lost in his eyes as he caressed her breasts and continued over her belly, swelling with his child. He bent his head to place kisses over her belly causing her muscles to twitch. She clutched his head and ran her fingers through his hair. Her scent signaled her readiness.

Hannibal moved lower on her body kissing the very underside of her abdomen and trailed kisses lower still.

Clarice arched her and sighed as he moved between her legs, his mouth reflecting his hunger for her.

He relished the sounds so sweet and airy as she sang her pleasure to him. He rewarded her response with attentiveness. He allowed his hand to follow his mouth and searched her flesh swirling his thumb within until her breath quickened and her body tensed. As the waves of her pleasure began to roll over her, Hannibal once again covered her with his mouth drawing his tongue over the hypersensitive flesh.

Clarice rocked gently against him, breathless from the attention. She pulled at his shoulders.

"H…now…hurry."

Hannibal moved quickly as she grasped for his shoulders. He clamored quickly over her body, centered himself and pressed himself within.

The sigh that escaped her drove him to distraction. Feeling the pause and too near her end to care why he hesitated, Clarice pulled at his hips.

"Don't stop…not now, H…"

Hannibal focused on Clarice, "Tell me what you want…what do you need Clarice?"

"More…just…more."

Hannibal drove himself against her. No longer in the moment himself, flashes and fragments of torment bleeding into his consciousness, he now sought only her pleasure.

Clarice responded to his movement, meeting his rhythm, not noticing his mental absence. Her finish came soon after.

Hannibal waited for her breathing to return to normal. He moved from her and pulled her against his body and held her tightly. She had been so engrossed in her own ecstasy that she did not notice he had not released.

Hannibal clutched her belly hoping to feel the child within her move. He _needed_ the child to move. Hannibal wanted desperately to feel the life. He attempted to shift his mighty mind back to life…his only thoughts now were centered on death.

Hannibal Lecter struggled within himself waging a mighty battle between life and death. Hannibal's war within raged as he attempted to shift his mind from the utter destruction of the last few days.

Clarice drifted to sleep within his arms unaware of the anguish as he attempted to shut from his mind the darkness overtaking it. It was a battle of life and death, an ancient and mighty battle.

It was a battle that would put everything he loved at risk. Thus far…it was a battle he was losing.

**Don't forget to review and tell me what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	58. Chapter 58

**EMILIA'S INVASION**

Hannibal's hands remained in place until the baby within Clarice moved against his hand.

_Well hello little one. You came along just in time._

Hannibal's eyelids slowly closed as he rested his head atop Clarice's deeply inhaling the almond scent of her shampoo. He calmed.

"H…?" Clarice questioned as she reached back for her husband.

Hannibal was currently entertaining himself with a particular theory involving wave-partical duality of matter and energy. He was considering Schrodinger's Cat. He was in the process of also measuring the size of his wife's belly by utilizing the span of his hand. He did not consider how loaded the next series of questions were or he might have attended to the answers with more care.

"Yes Clarice?"

"Is everything okay? Are you in any pain?"

Still, he was not clueing in to her line of questioning, "No. Why do you ask?"

Distracted with the variety of topics and sensory experiences swirling around him Hannibal ignored the questioning and continued to breathe deeply, inhaling her scent. He wanted to remember this Clarice. After the child's birth, her previous scent would return as her hormones would shift once again. Hannibal was uncertain as to Clarice's intentions. He wondered if she would want more children. He decided that soon he would ask.

"You seem…preoccupied…not present."

He was now occupying himself with a curl of her hair that had strayed and now tickled his nose.

"I apologize…know that it is no reflection on you."

Clarice rolled within his embrace to face him. She spoke quietly, wanting to ask a sensitive question she approached tentatively, "It didn't feel as if you…you know."

"Would that alter the experience for you had I not?"

"Hell yes."

"It didn't occur to me that it would. I'll make more of an effort in future."

Clarice pulled away and sat up quickly, her eyes reflected her shock.

"Making love to me shouldn't require effort!" she insisted with no small degree of hurt in her voice.

Hannibal's eyes reflected his confusion.

"It amazes me that as articulate a man as I am, when I am with you…I find exactly the right time to say precisely the wrong thing…I never meant to…never mind."

Hannibal rolled onto his back and crossed his forearms over his face.

Seeing his distress Clarice reached up and separated his arms just slightly peeking through the opening. Teasing, "Hey…sorry."

"Me too," he managed as he curled against her body.

She snuggled up against him, "Wanna talk?"

Hannibal's answer was direct. He would not be discussing this with Clarice. She would not understand. She was both perceptive and intuitive and Hannibal had been surprised that she had not asked him what he was wearing when Emilia was killed. The scrub pants were on the floor of the shower soaked. Had he removed them when Emilia was post mortem they would have been on the floor of the bathroom, not within the shower itself. _Best to avoid the topic altogether. _"No."

Clarice teased her index finger along his lips tracing the outline, "Why."

_Christ Clarice, leave it alone_. Hannibal thought to himself though he was intelligent enough not to support the thought with his voice. Instead, diplomatically, "Because it is not a coping mechanism that suits my personality, nor does it fulfill my needs."

Clarice swung her hips over his, "I bet I can figure out a way to fulfill your needs if you're up for it."

"If you would allow me a moment…I can probably arrange that."

Clarice leaned over Hannibal, her hair forming a curtain around his head as she bent to kiss him. He smiled as the baby, not as thrilled as they with the position, kicked against her womb. Hannibal's belly twitched from the contact.

"Did you feel that, H?"

"Yes, I felt it quite intensely."

Hannibal reached for her shoulders and pulled Clarice against him holding her tightly to him.

_He reached for my body, not my breasts or my lips. He doesn't want to make love._

Hannibal wanted contact with her body, his injuries no where near as intrusive as the emotional trauma of the event. He wasn't all that interested in sex.

Knowing that he was far more aggressive when libidinous his docility cued her to his need for contact not congress. Clarice offered him a quick out, "How about if we hop in the shower and just get in bed and cuddle up. I can catch up with you later."

She rose from him, stepped back and allowed him to stand. Clarice walked toward the master bathroom pausing in the doorway, she glanced playfully over her shoulder, "C'mon handsome…I'll soap you up and rinse you down like a stallion."

Hannibal laughed, "Stallion? Is that all the good I am to you? Am I to be used primarily for stud purposes then?"

"That's what they do with old thoroughbreds; it's better that than glue."

"Of that I have no doubt." he smiled.

Clarice turned on the water and hopped into the shower. She opened her arms to her husband.

Hannibal went to her and taking a knee he bowed before her, reached his arms around her waist and held her tightly. He rested his head on her belly. Clarice reached for the soap and began to work a thick lather over his muscles. He groaned his satisfaction as she grasped the deep tissues and alternately rolled the heel of her palm over him.

"How's that workin' for you H?"

"Your hands are magic, Clarice."

Hannibal stood and began to work the same muscles on his wife's body. As he grasped the deltoids a window opened in his mind and an intrusive sense of danger crept in. He leaned against Clarice. She sensed a slight shift in his demeanor but chose to say nothing. He gripped her muscles with unbearable strength.

Clarice pulled Hannibal against her reining him in an attempt to shift his hands which were applying far more pressure than she found pleasurable or desirable. He shifted with her body and leaned a thigh forward effectively blocking her into the corner of the shower. He pressed himself against her and leaned the full weight of his body toward her.

Clarice didn't sense that he was trying to hurt her. Quite the contrary, he was obviously aroused by the game in which he was the only willing participant. A sinister snarl escaped his lips as he moved against Clarice and began to bite at her neck.

Flashes of the Emilia running through his memory palace banging on the doors trying to breach the room labeled, MY FAMILY. Protector pursued searching, chasing the Shade as she covered and lurked and hid in the shadows. Protector raged. _You will not breach this door!_

As Protector pursued, Hannibal reflected on just how much he had enjoyed her death much like a gift someone might give themselves. She was his reward for following the rules. Her death would never be questioned. In this instance, Victim was how Hannibal wished to be perceived. As Emilia's victim he had the right to protect himself. He had the right to kill to defend, to take a life that had attempted to take his own life. Hannibal allowed himself to relive the feeling he had when he crushed the life from Emilia.

_You cannot hurt me and I will not let you hurt my family._

Hannibal grasped for Emilia's shoulders not realizing he had just pulled Clarice against him. He squeezed tightly, she squirmed against the vice-like pressure.

"You're hurting me." H! Stop!"

Hearing Clarice's voice, still believing he had Emilia in his grasp, Hannibal twisted his body to move Emilia away from Clarice. This forced his confused wife at an awkward angle. Normally she would have been irritated as she believed he was not going to injure her. She might even have tolerated his aggression if she believed it was arousing him but not while she was pregnant. Attributing her trepidation to her hormone levels she believed that her pregnancy made his aggression seem to her as more a threat than she would normally have perceived.

"H, I know you are just fucking around but you're getting on my last goddamned nerve so cut it out or you're going to eat a knee…" she warned meaning every word, "…and you're not going to like where I aim."

Hannibal growled against her throat as he imagined with lascivious delight the moment he twisted Emilia's neck. Lost in his memories he could hear the pop of the bursa as he spun the vertebrae. He felt her body twitching with what he told himself was her final moment of ecstasy.

He had not placed that memory or the death of Nico in any specific room of his memory palace. He didn't want the memory of his captivity. He did not wish to revisit his torment and had hoped to discard the events by ignoring them.

He surged toward Clarice as he had surged toward Emilia truly reliving the moment.

Clarice was fed up. She lifted her knee and aimed for his groin. When she made contact, Hannibal dropped back against the tile, doubled over. He looked up and was as shocked to see Clarice, not Emilia standing over him as he was shocked by the pain.

"Did that love tap wake you up or do I need to back that up with a little more force?" she warned.

Hannibal held a hand up. He was caught dead to rights and he had to explain. "It wasn't you…I'm sorry…it wasn't you. I thought you were Emilia. It wasn't you."

Hannibal believed the explanation was a sound one. It was the truth. She would understand.

But Clarice was pregnant, a mother lion defending her cub.

"Fuck you H it was me!" she stormed from the shower and slammed the door. "I understand if you're all turned around by what happened to you but you have to understand…I'm having a baby. I can't have you around me if you're out of control H…you're too goddamned dangerous if you're unstable. You need to get some fucking help with this or I'm not sticking around. You lose your shit at the wrong time and you'll hurt me or our baby. I'm not letting it happen H…I'm fucking not!"

Hannibal remained in the shower, doubled over and in some distress. Not from the contact which was glancing as she did not want to injure him, but from the realization that he was not in control.

The memory of his torment did not fade. It remained free formed and fresh and it, along with Nico and Emilia ran loose among his thoughts. Hannibal would have to corral the errant and grievous recollections before the reminiscences overwhelmed. The trauma was now invading his consciousness. Nico and Emilia were still a threat. They were as true a threat to Hannibal now as they were a threat to him personally then… it would not be long now before they became a threat to his marriage.

There was no doubt that Hannibal Lecter needed help. The question now would be to whom could or would he turn?

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	59. Chapter 59

**Read, enjoy and review my faithful friends!**

NIGHTMARES

Hannibal wrapped himself in his bathrobe and followed Clarice into the bedroom. She was already under the covers and Hannibal was unsure of what to do. He stood quietly and waited for her to react to his presence.

Clarice glanced over her shoulder and saw her husband standing in the doorway. She watched him for a moment to assess his mood. He didn't appear angry or aggressive instead he appeared wounded. Not physically…mentally.

Though she was nervous she wasn't afraid. _He would never hurt me._

"H…have you gotten a handle on it?" she questioned firmly, "I need to know that you know who the hell you're getting in bed with."

"I'm fine Clarice. The shower with you triggered an intrusion of thoughts…memories. I did not expect nor was I prepared for that intrusion. I am prepared for it now…it will not happen again."

Clarice flipped the quilt back from the bed offering Hannibal entrance. He climbed in and quickly scooted his body to spoon against her. They rested together for a few minutes, each without speaking. Hannibal stroked his hand along her thigh but did not seek to escalate the contact. There was comfort only in his touch.

"Are you okay, H?" Clarice questioned, concerned about her husband's state of mind.

"I am…distracted and having some difficulty adjusting. It was a trying few days," he spoke softly in her ear, "I suspect the wounds I incurred are not all visible."

_He is Pain._

Clarice pushed him gently away from her body allowing her room to face him.

As she turned over and met his gaze Hannibal raised an eyebrow of concern. Clarice's motivations were never clear to him. Very often, he would expect one outcome and his wife would surprise him by responding in a completely different fashion. He was usually taken quite by surprise. This instance would be no different.

She was, as usual, very direct in her approach, "I know you don't want to talk about this but, after tonight…I want some answers. I think I'm entitled."

Hannibal's heart rate was raised just slightly. He remained outwardly very calm though his insides were tied up in knots.

Drawing in a long deep breath the nervous husband answered very quietly, the calm in his voice masking the anxiety he was feeling, "Have I ever denied you that? Though I may not wish to discuss a particular topic I have never refused answers to your questions Clarice. If you have concerns pose them and I will address each of them honestly."

Clarice laced her fingers through the hair on her husband's chest. She didn't want Hannibal to mistake her questions for jealousy. She asked as calmly and as delicately as possible, "I saw where you slept…there were chains mounted to the bed? You were secured to the bed as you slept?"

His eyes were fixed on hers looking for a sign of her intention. Being unable to ascertain her intention he answered simply, "Yes."

Clarice was careful to reveal no emotion in her questioning. She continued her thought, "Nico slept in the front bedroom?"

Again, Hannibal's eyes searched. He could sense no hostility in her countenance. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly as he searched the air for a change in her scent, she remained impassive. Confused, he continued to answer honestly, wondering what she was on about, "I did not see where he slept…I would assume you are correct."

Hannibal followed the line of questioning; she would want to know one more thing.

_Here it comes…_Hannibal dreaded.

She was already fairly convinced that she understood what had happened. The curiosity in Clarice's voice was tinged with trepidation, "So H…where did Emilia sleep?"

Hannibal took a deep breath and spoke quietly, "She slept on the bed beside me."

He did not want to answer that question so he was certain not to elaborate further.

Clarice nodded her head and continued to twirl a finger in the hair on his chest. She did not react with the jealously Hannibal expected. He had prepared for her wrath…her rage about the situation. She remained eerily calm and he found that worrisome, expecting her to explode at any moment.

Hannibal's wife continued to surprise him with her calm questioning, "I know you would never make love to her but I also know that there is a distinction for you and it's that distinction that has me concerned."

Hannibal was fully thrown off by that statement. He quickly flipped through all of the possible points she might consider but couldn't determine what she was referencing. He pursued her thought, "I would be happy to address the topic though I am quite honestly unsure as to precisely what this distinction could be."

His wife's voice became slightly more authoritative as she was obviously quite concerned, "I am speaking about the distinction you have made between making love and having sex. I need to know."

Not a foolish man, Hannibal was not going to offer any extraneous information, therefore he questioned her further, "I need to know precisely what information you are seeking Clarice. Please be as direct as you would like but may I ask you to please be as specific in your questioning as you would like me to be in the answer."

"I just need you to be honest and tell me…you didn't do anything sexual with her did you?" she continued, unsure of how to word her question, "When she touched you in that cemetery…you…responded…physically. I know you would never make love to her but…I need to know whether or not you had sex with her. What went on at night H?"

"Nothing went on Clarice. I did not have sex with her nor did I make love to her because, as you put it, I made every effort not to respond physically."

Clarice rested her head on his chest. "I'm so sorry H…I won't press the point. I know you don't want to talk about this. Not yet anyway. It's just…you killed her in the shower."

"Yes." He watched her eyes. She lowered her face and kissed his chest. _She is distracting me with physical contact as she questions me…Clarice you are brilliant, my clever, clever girl._

"It's just that…I've never known you to shower with clothing on."

_Here we go… _"No."

Clarice ran her hand along Hannibal's abdomen causing a slight shudder from him at the contact. "Why did you kill her then? Why at that precise moment and why there in the shower of all places?"

Hannibal traced tiny infinity signs all over her back and shoulders, his indirect way of telling her he would love her forever. He had come to the realization that he would have to tell her that Emilia was making an advance. He could not lie to her, she would sense the deception.

Hannibal spoke very directly, "She wanted to touch me and I did not want to be touched. I am yours and yours alone, Clarice."

Clarice paused for a moment and considered his response. Satisfied with the answer she closed her eyes, "Okay H, that's enough for now. You know that I love you, right?"

"Yes, I love you as well Clarice." Hannibal gathered his wife to him as if pulling a shield to his body.

Clarice hugged him carefully certain not to put pressure on his healing body. She had placed a down pillow against his body and rested gently against him. Within minutes, both were sleeping quite peacefully.

It was sometime during the night that Clarice shifted and ended up on her side away from Hannibal. Hannibal remained on his back his years of incarceration trained his body to remain still at rest.

An hour, perhaps two hours into their sleep Hannibal began to uncharacteristically shift enough so that Clarice stirred awake and sat up. Confused by the movement and believing Hannibal to be in pain she moved away from his body assuming she had come in contact with his wounds. She watched him carefully to be certain she had not damaged him in some way.

Clarice soon realized that Hannibal was in the throes of a nightmare.

In the dream he should have been a boy as he had been in Lithuania when the events originally occurred, he was however his current self though he was filled with the same loneliness and utter despair that at that time had crushed his youthful heart.

_Stumbling through the snow…his exhausted body aching in pain Hannibal searched desperately for help, the chains on his body continually catching along the snow, grasping at him and digging deep bloody gashes into his flesh._

_Hannibal reached the crest of a large snow covered hill and collapsed exhausted, waist deep in snow with his chest heaving from his efforts. Dragging himself to his feet, he teetered on weakened legs and slowly regaining his balance he stood and carefully righted himself._

_Suddenly the chain around his neck was snapped taut and Hannibal was yanked back off his feet, his body slammed onto an unforgiving patch of ice. As Hannibal's body hit the frozen field and knocked the wind from his lungs he gasped for air, his mouth clutching at the cold for oxygen._

_Slowly regaining his composure, he rested for a moment on his back, staring up at the grey sky, the clouds threatening to open upon him. The chain around his throat was continuously being tugged. It was being yanked at so violently and continually that Hannibal reached for the end to halt the pressure and allow him breath. He flipped onto his hands and knees struggling to see what had captured the chain and had been the cause of his anguish._

_Looking forward, Hannibal sighted Nico on horseback with his back to Hannibal unmercifully dragging him by the chain. Emilia had her arms around Nico and rode on back of the horse, tossing her head back and laughing hysterically._

_Choking, Hannibal reached up desperate to breathe, desperate to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes. He gripped the chain digging his heels into the snow as he prepared to pull back. Emilia looked him in the eye, dragged her tongue in a circle along the inside of her lips and slapped the backside of the horse. _

_Hannibal closed his eyes and braced himself to be dragged as the horse bolted. The chain stretched, twisting to the limits until he was pulled violently from his feet. Hannibal's neck snapped, his near lifeless body bouncing and twisting along the snow._

Reacting in his sleep to the dream his was experiencing Hannibal twisted on the bed and clawed at the imaginary chain encircling his neck. His body lurched violently forward as he gasped for breath. He was mute with terror, his frame trembling from the perceived lack of oxygen.

Clarice grabbed him and held him close against her body, "H…H! It was only a dream…it was only a dream."

Slowly, Hannibal focused on the room and on his wife's voice. His breathing took several minutes to return to normal.

As Clarice held her husband, his chest heaving and his body still trembling from the experience she came to the realization that as brilliant a man as her husband was, he was a man and even with all his gifts, Hannibal had needs as well. The road to recovery would be a long and tumultuous one and one that for the first time in his life, Hannibal would not be forced to travel alone.

_**Thanks for your patience and your loyalty. Many thanks to my friends who continue to offer words of support and encouragement! You know the drill! Review and tell me what you think and drop me a pm to say hi!**_

_**Until the next chapter my friends!**_

_**LH**_


	60. Chapter 60

**Welcome back my fan fic friends! **

**Thanks for your loyalty! Enjoy, review then drop me a pm and say hello! **

**CHRISTMAS EVE**

Hannibal and Clarice woke late the morning of Christmas Eve. Clarice had no idea that Hannibal had already risen and had returned to bed when his task was finished. He had arranged to have a live tree delivered and custom decorated by a local shop. All that remained would be for Clarice to add a few selected ornaments and the star on top. Hannibal wanted this holiday to be memorable.

_You can't have Christmas without a tree._

Clarice, in her concern for Hannibal during his abduction had of course not considered preparing the home for the holiday. They had also mutually decided to forgo large gifts, as Hannibal had recently been quite extravagant. The spouses decided their Christmas would best be spent quietly enjoying each other's company.

Clarice rolled over, believing she had risen first. She placed a hand on the center of Hannibal's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his ribs with his breath.

_You've finally gotten some peace and quiet, H. At least a couple of hours were restful. _

The heat and pressure of Clarice's hand stirred her husband to consciousness. Hannibal twisted comfortably on the bed. Waking slowly he yawned deeply, spread his arms to span his chest muscles, arched his back and stretched his limbs until they reached their maximum extension.

"You look like a big lion waking up from a nap," she joked rubbing a hand along his body massaging his muscles, "talk about a satisfying stretch!"

"When I am in bed beside you I am the most satisfied man on the face of the earth, Clarice."

He then lifted Clarice and pulled her on top of him. Hannibal's thumbs had slipped beneath her armpits causing Clarice to emit an uncharacteristic giggle as she twisted her shoulders from his grip.

"C'mon H quit it…that tickles!"

He pulled her to him and nuzzled his face along her neck nipping at her ear playfully. He whispered low his warm breath soothing on her skin, "My apologies Clarice, I wanted to hold you close and that method seemed the most expeditious way in which to achieve that end."

"You could have asked. It's not as if I've ever denied you," she teased as she settled her small frame comfortably along the length of his body.

Clarice kissed his neck, searching with her lips along his shoulders and across his chest expecting Hannibal to respond in kind. She reached for him below the covers though instead of the welcoming response she expected from him he stayed her hand. Instead he placed an obviously platonic kiss on her forehead and pulled her tighter to his body avoiding further sexual contact.

_You still won't let me touch you...what's going on H?_

"We must rise from our bed Clarice and therefore_ I_ must _not_ if you take my meaning. There is much to prepare and when we go downstairs you will find that I have a surprise for you."

"You promised you wouldn't buy a bunch of gifts H…You've been getting really carried away lately. I know you're financially secure but you won't be if you keep your spending at this pace."

"It is nothing of the kind, my Love. I merely wanted to share some of the traditions my family enjoyed during the holidays. My mother particularly loved Christmas and passed on several traditions from her native Italy. I would also incorporate some of the Lithuanian influences as well. If there are any special items or foods you would like me to include from your childhood celebrations you need only say so and I will attend to it."

"We didn't have much money H. Christmas was a little anti-climactic for me most years. I'm sure your plans are much more extravagant than anything I have ever experienced."

"I have not been extravagant at all merely attending to family traditions and preparing to spend time with my family as Christmas should be. We have much to prepare and very little time in which to complete our tasks."

Clarice groaned, rolled from her husband and stood up from the bed grumbling under her breath, "You are a tough man Hannibal Lecter."

"Ah, not H…not even Hannibal, this time my _full _name? To what do I owe _that_ distinction?"

"I'm very upset with you right now."

"And why would that be?"

"That would be because I am very d, i, s, appointed! I was looking forward to a little… Christmas cheer to put it delicately."

Hannibal laughed at how she spelled the first three letters of the word disappointed as if doing so stressed the emotion. He jumped up from the bed and began to remove the sheets, "I promise you Clarice I will be extremely attentive at a later time. Right now, I must attend to my work."

As her husband busied himself with the sheets, Clarice was confused he would choose this day to do the laundry. "What's up, H? Why are you stripping the bed now?" she questioned thinking it quite odd.

Hannibal snapped the clean sheets across the mattress and moved quickly around the bed. He efficiently began to make hospital corners, hurried in his response to his wife, "It is a custom in Lithuania to change all the linens before dinner on Christmas Eve. The home has already been thoroughly cleaned, we have only to bathe and dress ourselves. Our dinner will be of Italian influence as I don't believe the 12 courses of the traditional Lithuanian Christmas meal would be appealing to you. My mother refused to follow the custom as she found the foods unappetizing and preferred the feast of the seven fishes traditional to Italian households."

Clarice helped Hannibal to replace the pillows on the bed. She paused for a moment, her curiosity piqued, "What types of foods are traditional in Lithuania?"

He was brief in his response, "Fish, herring, dried fruits, and sauerkraut…that sort of thing."

Clarice crinkled her nose and shook her head as if an unpleasant smell had filled the room. "I don't blame your mother …it sounds gross. What are we having?"

"Within Italian families Christmas Eve is much more celebrated than Christmas day itself. Food is the focus, followed by the setting up the nativity and culminating in the Midnight Mass. The meal itself is meatless therefore we will be enjoying a fish and seafood menu. A variety of seven fishes is the tradition therefore there will be seven varieties of seafood available. I have already baked anginettes and an assortment of cookies for dessert. Perhaps you would like to leave a plate of them for Santa Claus?"

"Don't be such a smart ass. What I want tonight has nothing to do with Santa that's for sure."

"Sounds charming," Hannibal smiled a wicked grin, "arrangements can be made if you are not on the naughty list."

"I would think you would prefer the naughty list. You're not exactly a good boy yourself you know."

"Touche' Clarice."

Clarice watched him intently as he moved around the room gathering the stripped bedding and placing it in the hamper in the bathroom. He continued to move about the upper floor preparing the home for the holidays. She was genuinely surprised by his obvious anticipation, "So whatcha got planned H? What types of fish and seafood? I'm not a big fan of gills you know."

"Of course we begin with the antipasto, followed by baked stuffed clams, freshly made linguine with crab sauce, baked stuffed shrimp, scallops, hand-picked lobster, risotto, steamed broccoli with garlic, lemon and olive oil, and the traditional capitone sautéed with olives and capers."

"What is a capitone?"

"It is a rather large eel, Clarice…very delicious. No self- respecting Italian would serve a Christmas Eve meal without including it, though you may pass on it if you wish. There are enough options from which to choose."

"Yeah, I think I'll pass on the eel."

"Considering your stance on fish I decided against the baccala'. I didn't think you would find it palatable."

"What's baccala'?"

"It is a dried piece of salted cod."

"Good idea to leave that off the menu. The eel is enough of a stretch. Why can't we just have something like chicken parm?"

"Because it is meat thus off limits tonight also that particular dish is not a traditional Italian recipe. It is Italian American, though I do believe a majority of Italian Americans also serve fish on Christmas Eve. It is a traditional fast for the ethnic group."

"Sounds like a lot of food to be considered a fast."

"This type of fast merely refers to the avoidance of meat."

Hannibal finished his preparations in the bedroom and turned to Clarice opening his arms to her. She smiled widely as she entered his embrace. He hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear, "This will be the first Christmas I have shared with family since I was a boy. I know it has been quite some time for you as well therefore I have been making every effort to make it special for you, Clarice."

"If you hadn't worked so hard on that bed I'd make you prove that to me right now."

"Later Clarice…later, for now I have to set the table and finish preparing the meal."

Satisfied that the bedroom had been adequately addressed, Hannibal rushed from the room, taking Clarice by the hand. Hannibal bounded down the stairs with Clarice in tow. His voice was filled with excitement as he relayed the traditions that meant so much to him as a child.

Clarice had an additional question and reached for Hannibal's hand grasping his pinky, "You mentioned attending Midnight Mass as a child. How do you feel about attending a Christmas Eve Mass tonight, H? The church around the corner has one on their mass schedule posted outside. It's supposed to be a lovely night. We could walk."

They arrived in the dining room where Hannibal was searching for something he had placed earlier in the week. He continued to talk as he searched, "Clarice, I would enjoy that very much but do you not think my presence would be a bit of a distraction?"

"Not in a Catholic Church. They don't go off book; the ritual of the mass is set. If it were a Protestant Church depending on the denomination if could get crazy with testifying and such. No, I think the parishioners would be respectful. They might stare a bit though if that matters at all."

"It doesn't matter to _me_ Clarice. It is you I am worried about…it may be uncomfortable."

"Well we will have to pick a church eventually so now is as good a time as any. Unless you don't want the baby baptized?"

Hannibal bent low for a moment and reaching to the back of a drawer, found the small bag he had placed in the sideboard. He removed it, pausing to assess the question Clarice posed.

Hannibal had not consciously entertained the subject of the child's religious training though the thought had stirred in his mind. He now stood seriously considering the topic.

"It is the tradition of my family that all children are baptized before the end of their first month. Italians are very superstitious people. My mother was no exception and would not take her infants out in public until they were baptized. I must admit that I had only passively considered the subject. You have decided that you do not want the child to be raised Lutheran? I had expected to discuss this topic with you at a future time."

"No, I was taught as a child that God chooses some for heaven and some for hell. I don't think all Lutherans believe that but my pastor had some Calvanistic leanings and it never really sat right with me. I mean if there is a God why would he predetermine that. Catholics believe in confession. If you confess to the priest and are truly penitent you can still go to heaven. It's your religion, H. It's the way your mother wanted you raised. I think it's the way we should raise our son. What about that Midnight Mass, H? I'd really like to go…Will you take me?"

"If you would like to attend Mass, I would be honored to escort you."

Clarice followed Hannibal around the dining room. He opened the bag he had just retrieved and spread a thin layer of hay on the large mahogany table. He then covered it with a crisp white linen table cloth.

Clarice watched closely and questioned the process, "Is that an Italian tradition as well?"

Hannibal began adorning the table with pine boughs and placed large candlesticks down the center. He smiled, "No, this is a Lithuanian tradition. The hay represents the lowly station of Christ's birth, the manger where he was placed. Have you discovered my surprise yet?"

"No. What and where is it?"

"Go in the living room and see for yourself."

Clarice left the dining room and headed for the living room. Hannibal followed closely behind anticipating Clarice's reaction. She did not disappoint him.

Clarice's eyes lit up, "We have a tree!"

"Yes, my Love. I hope you like it. I chose traditional colors. I hope you like the white lights. I didn't like the look of the colored lights, too garish for my taste. They delivered it and set it up very early this morning."

"Do we have a star to finish it off?" the obvious thrill in her voice pleased Hannibal greatly.

"Yes, go have a look. It is in the box on the mantel," he watched her reaction as she turned toward the fireplace. He wanted to witness her excitement.

The large spruce just to the right side of the fireplace, Clarice turned slightly to face the mantel to see that Hannibal had placed richly brocaded stockings each embroidered, one saying Clarice, the other Hannibal.

Clarice approached the stockings and pinched the rich fabric, rolling her thumb over the material.

"This is just…it's just so special H."

"I have a matching stocking for the baby as well. We will hang it for him next year. The star is in the larger box on the mantle. Begin with the smaller box of the two."

Clarice reached for the box and opened it. Within the velvet box there were contained within three delicate filigree ornaments. Each were engraved, Hannibal explained the significance.

"The ornament you hold is engraved with our original wedding date and the initials M & C representing our aliases, the next ornament, the date we renewed our vows taking our actual names thus the engraving, Hannibal and Clarice, and the third, the date yet to be added as it represents the birth of our child engraved with the name of the baby, Hannibal IX. You may use the ornaments to finish decorating the tree Clarice. The star will be placed after dinner when we set up the nativity."

Clarice reached for a bough to hook the ornament. She was surprised to find the tree was not artificial. "H…it's a real tree! It's so perfect I thought it was a fake. I don't think I've had a real tree since my mother was alive. Once she passed…well, my father tried but…" her voice trailed off.

Hannibal could see the sadness in her eyes, "My holidays lost their luster when my mother died as well Clarice. We will make every effort that our child does not suffer as such. Place the ornaments representing our family, my Love."

With tears in her eyes Clarice hung the ornaments one by one finding a special placement for each. She then turned to Hannibal. "That was so very, very special. I love you so much H…I am speechless."

"I love you more, Clarice." he stated as if it were a fact not up for discussion.

Hannibal spent the rest of the day cooking. He and Clarice assembled containers of food and both visited their elderly neighbors delivering the hot meal. After a respectable visit they bid the couple a Merry Christmas and returned home.

Hannibal served each course to his wife taking great pleasure in Clarice's enjoyment of the meal. They laughed and joked, enjoying the pleasure of each other's company. Hannibal was secretly and somewhat selfishly thrilled they were alone.

At meal's end he carried a tray of cookies and coffee to the living room setting the dessert up on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. He then removed a large box from a nearby closet.

"What's that H?"

"It is an antique nativity I purchased many years ago. It has long been in storage. I have never had occasion to set it up until now."

He opened the box and one by one extracted very intricately carved pieces representing each of the participants in the nativity, animals included. He set them all in front of a very detailed wooden crèche. Hannibal then placed the empty manger between the statues of Mary and Joseph.

Clarice watched carefully and questioned, "Where's baby Jesus?"

"We are not allowed to place him in the manger until after the midnight mass, Clarice."

Hannibal took his place at his wife's side. "Just before we leave for mass we will place the star on the tree. When we return from church you may place the baby in the manger."

"Given this a lot of thought have you, H?"

"It is tradition, Clarice."

"That's really important to you isn't it H?"

"Tradition is all I have left of my childhood family. I must pass that on to my new family. It is extremely important to me. Also, being that I am much older there is a very high likelihood that my children will be without a father much younger than most. I will therefore make every effort to make each holiday special as I have no idea which will be my last."

"Don't say that H."

"Not saying it will not prevent the inevitable."

"Still…don't."

Hannibal reached out a hand and Clarice joined him. The pair watched the fire and cuddled holding each other close.

At ten thirty Hannibal nudged Clarice.

"My Love if you still have the intention of attending mass we should place the star and freshen up. The church will no doubt be crowded."

Clarice rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, "I'm a little tired H. Put the star up for me."

Hannibal stood, removed the filigree star from the box and placed it atop the tree. He then helped Clarice up and after the pair freshened up and Hannibal was certain his wife was warm the pair began the walk to the church a few blocks away.

Hannibal wrapped an arm around Clarice, their similar body types suited to walking in sync. Though he was taller by several inches she had long legs allowing their strides to match quite well.

The snow began to fall and the blanket forming insulated the atmosphere muting the sounds. It was a quiet and peaceful walk. Hannibal was careful to hold his wife's hand, worried that the large stone steps leading up to the church might be slippery.

As the pair entered the church Hannibal dipped his fingers in the holy water and crossed himself. Clarice, unfamiliar with the procedures watched Hannibal and followed his lead. The pair walked up the center aisle, the church decorated with poinsettias and a tree on the side of the altar. There were gifts for the poor left under the tree and instead of decorations children had draped mittens for the needy on each of the boughs. Initially the church was quite empty as they had arrived early to insure a seat for Clarice. Hannibal chose a pew in the center of the church and genuflected, as he had been taught as a child. He allowed Clarice to enter first placing him on the aisle.

The parish priest was making his way along the rows greeting the churchgoers. When he reached Hannibal and Clarice he extended an unknowing hand.

Hannibal could see the precise moment the priest recognized him. It was as if the man's heart skipped a beat. Hannibal's maroon eyes flashed crimson in the low light and reflected the candles dancing around him. He grasped the priest's hand and smiled warmly, "Hello Father, Merry Christmas to you. I can see by your expression that you are already familiar with my name. Please then allow me to introduce my wife, Clarice."

Clarice extended her hand, "Pleased to meet you Father?"

"Peter…Father Peter. I am pleased to meet you as well Clarice. I didn't know you were Catholic Doctor Lecter."

"Well…lapsed obviously though I am interested in discussing the matter further. I have a child on the way and must attend to my own soul before his birth."

"The Prodigal Son is always welcome Doctor."

"Please Father…Hannibal."

"We will speak again…Hannibal. Come by anytime. My door is always open."

Hannibal stood and shook the priest's hand. "Thank you, Father Peter. We will see each other soon."

"I look forward to it. It was a pleasure to meet you both, a very Merry Christmas to you."

Clarice smiled, "You too, Father."

The priest moved to the next pew and Clarice reached up taking Hannibal's hand. She whispered, "That wasn't so bad was it, H?"

"That was the easy part Clarice. If we decide to go through with this it will get very interesting."

"What do you mean H? He was a pussycat."

Hannibal flashed a devilish grin and teased, "Yes, well…he hasn't heard my confession yet."

After mass the pair returned home, exhausted and exhilarated. Clarice placed the baby Jesus in the manger and kissed her husband.

"Thank you H…this has been…magical."

Hannibal smiled.

**Don't forget to read, review and drop me a pm to say hello!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	61. Chapter 61

**Welcome back to No More a Savage Life: Chapter Two**

**Authors note: Allow me a moment to offer my many thanks to all of my new friends who continue to read and review with such thoughtfulness and dedication. It is both encouraging and humbling. You are all truly appreciated!**

**A FRIEND IN NEED **

Clarice and Hannibal were working in the kitchen, Clarice loaded the dishwasher and Hannibal busied himself cleaning the countertop. Clarice looked over at her exceedingly domesticated spouse and wondered how someone who was capable of such extreme acts of violence could also be capable of living such a normal life. He was a husband like any other…no, a husband _more_ than any other. He was attentive and thoughtful, always putting her needs over his own.

She closed the dishwasher and looked over at him.

_I wonder how long it will take him to realize that I'm watching him._

Hannibal continued cleaning laughing quietly as he spoke, "Clarice?"

"Yes, H?"

"Enjoying the view are you?"

"How the hell do you do that H?"

"Your scent changes when you face me. It is more…distinct."

"That really freaks me out H. It's crazy!"

"Some have made the argument that I am as well."

"Yeah well, some don't know you the way I do."

Clarice crossed the kitchen, wrapped her arms around her husband's body and tucked her hands in his front pockets. She held his hips and pulled her body against his. Leaning her cheek on his back she spoke quietly, "I miss your body, it's been a while for us H…are you feeling alright? Are you having pain?"

Hannibal paused. It had been several days since they had been intimate and he expected the subject to come up eventually. He was direct, "Not as such. I am not experiencing pain. I am experiencing…stress."

Clarice was careful to hold him gently and made certain that her touch not be perceived as intrusive. She placed tender kisses on his back and shoulders. Her voice was gentle, "Anything I can help you with?"

Hannibal's body began to respond to her touch. Not wanting to send mixed signals he slipped her hands out of his pockets, turned toward her and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I am attempting to deal with it on my own. I may wish to speak with you about it though I am making a concerted effort to avoid that if possible."

"Avoid what?"

"Avoid divulging to you that which may prove…sensitive. You are my wife not my therapist. I don't wish to burden you with my emotional angst. I believe time and distance from the events will provide the necessary perspective."

"You don't _have_ a therapist and your emotions are not a burden H."

"Clarice once something is heard it cannot be unheard and believe me when I say that the details of my captivity were most unpleasant. I would spare you that."

The phone rang. It was the ring tone Clarice programmed specifically for Ardelia.

Hannibal was relieved. _Saved by the bell._

"Speak with your friend, Clarice. I'll be at the piano if you have need of me."

Hannibal reached back and handed Clarice the phone so that she would not be tempted to avoid the call and continue their conversation. Hannibal slipped quickly out of the room. She held the receiver, covered it and called after Hannibal, "You're not getting off that easy H!"

"Give my best to Ardelia, Clarice," Hannibal teased as he moved quickly down the hallway and out of sight.

Clarice put the phone to her ear irritated that Hannibal had eluded the conversation, "What Ardelia?" she barked obviously irritated.

"Wow girl, why don't you just bite my head off?"

"Sorry Dee. I'm just a little upset with H right now. He's shutting me out and it's frustrating."

Ardelia had little sympathy for Clarice and made it obvious in her sarcastic tone, "Oh wow, poor Clarice. Her husband voluntarily surrenders himself to a couple of sadistic freaks and is tortured for days just to save her and when he won't give her all the details she gets all butt-hurt. Boo-hoo!"

"Okay, I get it…it's not about me it's about Hannibal. I'm just really worried about him. He hasn't been himself," Clarice paced the kitchen nervously, "He's been having nightmares and they must be bad because he sits bolt upright in bed and he hyperventilates. It's really heartbreaking to watch. I want to help him but he said he wants to deal with it on his own."

Ardelia was reassuring, "Hey you've got to respect his process, you know."

Clarice sat at the kitchen table and huddled over the phone. It was as if her body formed a protective cocoon in which to purge her from her worries. She didn't respond, she pressed the receiver to her head as if Ardelia would be able to assess her mood telepathically. In fact, she almost could.

Ardelia sensed there were things going unsaid. She questioned, "Is that it? Just nightmares or is something else going on you aren't telling me because the silence is screaming at me louder than your explanation."

"We haven't made love since my birthday," Clarice whispered, hunched over the phone as if worried about being overheard even though she could clearly hear Hannibal playing the piano.

Ardelia shrugged it off, "That was only a week ago. He isn't a young man you know. What's usual for you two and spare me the details I'm only talking frequency. I'm not looking for any visuals or I'll never be able to look him in the eyes again."

"That's the point. It's usually every night. Every other night at the most but an entire week is goddamned unheard of. Even after he was shot he wouldn't wait that long and he won't really talk to me about it."

"Well if he can't perform it might be a sensitive topic. That really freaks guys out."

"He can perform…he just can't seem to…finish."

"Well that's a lot easier to treat I would think. If he won't talk to you will he talk to someone else?"

"Like who?" Clarice hadn't considered that Hannibal might share his experiences with someone other than herself.

Ardelia thought she had an idea of what might work and was excited at the prospect, "What about Barney and Logan? They were both Marines and I know Logan's been through some real shit. He definitely had a bout with PTSD. He might be a good resource. It's not like therapy but maybe Hannibal just needs to get it off his chest. The men can tell war stories or something. At least he can relate to that."

"I'll try anything. You can't really let on to Logan what it's about. Hannibal is too sophisticated. He'll pick up on it right away if he thinks the guys have an agenda."

"What should I tell them?" Ardelia wanted to be clear. This was too important to screw up by miscommunicating details.

"Just tell them we're going to have dinner and hang out. Then you and I will make some lame excuse about the baby or going to buy some female crap and to leave the men alone and see what happens."

Ardelia laughed at the prospect of Hannibal the Cannibal hanging out with a couple of buddies for a night of male bonding. Her amusement was obvious in her tone, "If I know Logan at all he'll be asking a million questions. A little male bonding may be exactly what Hannibal needs."

"I'm desperate Dee I swear I'll try anything."

"Okay Clarice what time do you want us over?"

Relieved they had a plan, there was a sense of anticipation in Clarice's voice, "Let's say seven. It'll give H time to get what he needs to make dinner."

"Are you calling Barney or am I?"

"I'll call him. H is playing the piano so I'll have a clear warning if he's coming. Thanks Dee. I feel a lot better."

"No problem Clarice. We'll see you later on tonight."

Clarice immediately called Barney and invited him to dinner. Barney was perceptive and immediately understood the situation. Clarice was not specific but she didn't have to be. As always Barney was on board.

Hannibal didn't expect Clarice to ask his permission when inviting friends over so when she told him they would be having company he was not suspicious. Since it was Logan and Barney coming over Hannibal simply grabbed his car keys and headed to the market to pick up some steak.

When Hannibal returned he immediately began cooking. Clarice spent her time as far away from Hannibal as possible. She decided to clean the bathrooms and stay as far away from the kitchen as she could without raising his suspicions.

Seven o'clock came quickly and Barney was the first to arrive carrying a very respectable 2000 Napa Valley Hillside Select Cabernet Sauvignon. It was a moderately priced wine and Hannibal seemed to instantly approve.

"Lovely choice Barney, you are improving your wine selections. I am quite impressed."

Barney had been sweating his wine choice and Hannibal's appreciation caused a great sigh of relief from the larger man, "Glad you approve. Of course my palate is not as sophisticated as yours my friend but I do enjoy this wine. I hoped you might enjoy it as well."

Clarice directed Barney to the living room where Hannibal had planned to serve drinks before the dinner. Hannibal waited at the front door. Ardelia and Logan had just pulled up so Hannibal walked outside and opened the car door for Ardelia and extending a hand, helped her out of the vehicle.

Ardelia was very verbal in her appreciation signaling to Hannibal that Logan's manners were lacking.

"See that is how a gentleman treats a lady, Logan. You need to take a few lessons from Hannibal. Your parents were lacking in your home training," she turned to Hannibal as she stepped to the curb, "You are a true gentleman, Hannibal. Your parents raised you well. Logan on the other hand was raised by wolves."

Hannibal bowed slightly, "I cannot speak to Logan's parentage though I am certain Canis Lupus had no involvement. Allow me to thank you on behalf of my parents. Manners were highly regarded in my household. It would please them to know their attention to my upbringing was appreciated."

He guided Ardelia up the steps and opened the front door allowing her entrance, "After you, lovely lady."

She smiled and curtsied slightly, "Thank you kind sir."

Logan rolled his eyes, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this."

He followed Ardelia as with a broad sweep of his arm Hannibal waved him past. Logan whispered to Hannibal, "Dude, you've gotta teach me that swagger. The ladies all go crazy for you!"

"You only need one lady to go crazy for you Logan," Hannibal answered, "And it looks as if all you need to do is open the occasional door. I don't believe learning that particular skill set is beyond your capacity."

Logan paused a moment waiting for Ardelia to find Clarice. He stood beside Hannibal in the foyer until Ardelia was out of earshot, "A little advice would be great. Ardelia's always saying I need to be more like you. I guess Clarice must be filling her head so by comparison you're making me look bad my friend."

"It is not my intention Logan."

"Maybe we can talk after dinner," he handed Hannibal a box of cigars, "Hand rolled from a Cuban guy I helped get out. I met him while I was at Guantanamo. He does great work. We can have a couple and let the girls go somewhere and bond. They wouldn't be interested in the same types of things we would be."

"Perhaps," Hannibal mused, "Clarice might prefer that. We shall see."

Dinner went quite well and Clarice was thrilled at how relaxed Hannibal seemed to be. The food was delicious as always and the conversation lively. Hannibal was in his element hosting the evening. After coffee and dessert, it wasn't long before Clarice suggested the men retire to the living room.

"Dee and I will clear the dishes and load the dishwasher. You men go off and talk about whatever men talk about."

Hannibal gestured to the box of cigars on the sideboard, "Clarice, Logan was kind enough to bring cigars."

"You can smoke them if you keep the door closed. I don't want that wafting all over the house."

The men retired to the living room. Clarice and Ardelia remained in the kitchen. Clarice smiled at Ardelia, "The cigars? Your idea?"

"Of course…it was the only thing I could think of that would insure they would close the door. Hannibal's not going to say a word if he thinks you might overhear him."

"You are brilliant Dee…truly inspired."

"Devious…I know," she laughed.

**HANNIBAL UNBOUND**

Barney and Logan sat on the plush sofa in front of the fireplace. Hannibal stood quietly next to the Christmas tree.

Barney watched Hannibal carefully. After so many years being his keeper he had developed as close a relationship with him as anyone aside from Clarice ever had. He believed he could _almost_ read his mood, understanding that this was only possible when Hannibal allowed the intrusion. Tonight, Barney sensed a distance from his friend, though he was slightly distracted by the reflection of the fireplace in Hannibal's eyes. The flames made the irises glow brightly like fading embers burning back to life as precious air bellows across them.

"It is quite a lovely tree," Barney commented, "So glad that you were able to come home in time for Christmas. You've been through quite a bit my friend. If you were a cat I'd say you'd gone through most of those nine lives by now."

Hannibal smiled as he clipped the end of his cigar and lit it with a match, "Yes I would have to agree with you."

Logan's curiosity was bubbling over, "What did happen to you? Why did they grab you anyway? Was it some kind of revenge or what?"

"No, Emilia and I had a previous relationship. She believed she might be able to convince me that resuming the relationship was in my best interest. She enjoyed pain and believed it might prove to be a successful motivator. The only thing it motivated me to do was kill her."

Logan was at the edge of his seat, "That was Emilia Dolente right?"

Hannibal nodded and smiled like the cat that ate the proverbial mouse, "Yes, that _was_ her name."

Logan nudged Barney. "That's the chick that's been all over the internet talking about our good friend here. She couldn't get enough of him. She was a real freak show, huh Hannibal?"

"Not anymore she isn't," Hannibal mused, "and yes she was quite…adventurous."

Logan faced Barney and became very animated as he explained what he knew of the relationship.

Hannibal watched Logan quite intently. He was amused by the younger man's interest.

"This chick was really into pain. Like she totally got off on it so when Hannibal got bored with her and moved on she went crazy. She was all over this website talking about how badly she wanted to get back with Hannibal here." Logan turned to Hannibal as if approaching a god with a question, "How the hell at your age are you still driving all of these women crazy? You are the absolute pimp of the century!"

Hannibal turned toward the fireplace. Barney took note of his immediate withdrawal from the conversation.

"Logan perhaps Hannibal doesn't wish to discuss the particulars of his treatment at the hands of Miss Dolente."

"Why not? We've all been through a shit storm or two? Hey Hannibal check this out!"

Logan lifted his shirt and turned to reveal several long broad scars across his back.

"I got captured in Iraq and held for a while. It was really crazy. They had me for about ten days. These are from the beatings. They wanted information. I didn't want to give it to them."

Barney stood and pulled out his shirt tail. Opening his shirt he revealed a large circular scar on his chest just below his collarbone.

"I got this in Camp LeJeune. Training accident...dumb ass recruit had a jammed weapon and turned the wrong way on the range to clear it. Fired a round right into my chest."

Hannibal stood very still for a long moment. It wasn't as if he had any reservations about removing his shirt. Barney had seen him fully unclothed more times than either man could count.

"C'mon Hannibal, your turn!" Logan encouraged, "I showed you mine…you gotta to show me yours!"

Hannibal unbuttoned his shirt and opened it. Even Barney winced a bit.

"These are the bullet wounds from Will Graham, this bullet came from Stuart Miggs, This cluster is the scar from the bundle of arrows and the lovely fresh scars are courtesy of Nico."

Barney stood and gestured that he would like to take a closer look, "Would you mind, Hannibal?"

Hannibal understood Barney's curiosity was different than Logan's, "Not at all Barney."

Barney examined Hannibal's sides closely. He used his voice almost as a sedative, seeking to relax, "So the scars on your side…half are burns and the other half are cuts? The skin?"

Hannibal gestured to a drawer in an end table, "It's over there."

Logan slid the drawer open and pulled out Nico's braid with the strips of Hannibal's preserved skin looking much like chamois twisted within the hair.

"Dude, is this strips of your skin?"

"Yes."

"Dude could you get any more hard core than you are? Seriously. You cut the braid off the guy and took it home with you? That's some beastly shit!"

"I told Nico I would have it back. I meant it."

Barney continued his examination, running his hands over Hannibal's skin as much to comfort as to examine.

"What about the burns? The patterns are very distinctive. It looks like a brand of sorts. What did he use to achieve the markings?"

"He heated the blade of my Harpy with a propane torch and used both the hooked tip and the flat of it to vary the pattern and the level of pain," Hannibal stated the procedure as if reading it from a book. He showed no emotion as he responded. It seemed as though he were relaying a story second hand as if it had all happened to someone else.

"Hannibal you are one tough mother fucker!" Logan beamed, "That would've broken me. Did they offer to stop it at all?"

"Yes, they would have stopped immediately had I agreed to be with Emilia."

"Be _with_ her?" Barney questioned, "In the biblical sense?"

"Yes. Had I agreed to continue my previous physical relationship with Emilia, Nico's ministrations would have ceased. I did not trust that he would not turn his attentions to Clarice at that point, therefore keeping him interested in me as a subject seemed the best way to control that."

"Wow…Dude that's love! I mean…I care about Ardelia but to stop that pain I would've wrapped that bitch Emilia's head in a flag and fucked her for my country if you know what I mean."

Hannibal chuckled at the reference. "That's a very colorful expression Logan but all joking aside, I would never have agreed to _service_ Emilia. I could not do that to Clarice. She would be crushed by the betrayal."

Barney shook his head, "She wouldn't have to know. You didn't have to tell her."

"She wouldn't _have_ to know_. I_ would know."

Barney waited for Hannibal to button his shirt and tuck it back into his trousers. He then extended a hand in support and friendship. Hannibal grasped his hand and covered the grip with his left hand. Barney then did the same so that all four of their hands were involved. They held the grip very still.

Hannibal nodded. There was much between these men. Barney saw something in Hannibal's eyes. Just a brief flash of it before it escaped. He had seen it before. There was just a glimmer of vulnerability behind his eyes.

_He's so strong…they almost broke him. Almost._

Barney released his free hand and reached around Hannibal's shoulder pulling him into a quasi-embrace.

"I don't know how you got through that Hannibal but we want you to know that we are your friends and would be honored to have your trust. If you talked about it…you might be able to heal from it faster."

"I don't know where to start…"

Logan became very solemn, "Start at the beginning Hannibal…"

Hannibal took a very deep breath and let it escape from him slowly. He then drew in a second breath ever longer than the first and exhaled in relief with the words, "It began in Lithuania…"

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! You know the routine! Review so I know what you think then drop me a pm and say hi! Until the next chapter my friends!**

**Regards!**

**LH**


	62. Chapter 62

**Welcome back my very faithful fan fic friends! FAIR WARNING- LEMON AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER-Lol! Enjoy the chapter, review and pm to say hi!**

**The Women**

Clarice and Ardelia sat in the kitchen wondering what the men were talking about. Actually Ardelia was wondering. Clarice was worrying.

"It's really quiet in there when you consider Logan's in that room," Clarice stressed.

Ardelia waved off the concern, "He knows when to sit down, shut up and listen and believe me if Hannibal is talking Logan is listening. Your husband is like a god to him."

Clarice sipped her coffee, "If we can't figure this out I may call Bloom in Chicago."

"Clarice don't do that…Just don't. Hannibal would be mortified. You can't do that to him. It isn't as if he's violent or anything. The only person he's hurting is himself and don't say it's hurting you too because I don't want to hear it."

"Well it is."

"Lack of getting laid is not a terminal condition."

"Easy for you to say, you've got Logan."

"Trust me from what you've told me Hannibal's a lot more prolific than Logan. We've got a good thing going but neither one of us is in the mood for anything but our pillows after a long day at Quantico. If I bump into him once or twice a week we both feel lucky."

"Once or twice a week…I'd kill myself."

"Really? There are days it isn't even worth getting undressed. Sometimes I'm pissed I shaved for it to be honest. I mean Logan is absolutely gorgeous but he's not that attentive and once he's done…he's done."

"My god I must be really spoiled, I mean Hannibal would never."

"Hannibal would never what?"

"Finish first. He would consider that…rude."

"Even the last time…you mean you…every time, every single time?"

"He makes sure I'm taken care of every single time."

"So what the hell are you complaining about?"

"He hasn't."

"He hasn't what?"

"He hasn't had…you know!"

"What the hell are you talking about Clarice?"

"Jesus, Ardelia sometimes you are so dense! He can get it up and he can keep it up but since he came home last week he hasn't had an orgasm okay? I have…he hasn't. Clear enough for you or what?"

"Oh my god that was entirely too much information!" Ardelia jammed her index fingers into her ears. "Lalalalalalala I can't hear you, Lalalalalalalala!"

"Don't be such a baby! You act like I just showed you a sex tape or something!"

"If you did…I think I'd kill myself."

**THE MEN**

Hannibal had given the men a very abridged version of his childhood, his incarceration and the events that surrounded it along with some details of his recent captivity. Logan sat leaning over resting his forearms on his knees, jaw slackened in shock, "I was fucking impressed with you before but oh my god…oh my god! You are the strongest dude that has ever walked the face of the earth."

Barney nodded, "Your story is unreal my friend. Does Clarice know any of this?"

"Yes, she knows everything with the exception of the most recent situation. I cannot reveal the details of that captivity to her. She would feel exceedingly guilty and I will not have her accepting blame or feeling complicit on any level."

Barney agreed, "If she found out you could have ended it and didn't because of her, she would blame herself so I get why you're not talking to her about it. So the nightmares of your childhood are bleeding through?"

"Yes. I am experiencing some post-traumatic stress which seems to be linking to the childhood trauma. I find that I am able to control the effects during the day though nights are proving to be a bit of a struggle."

Logan was nodding his head in agreement, "Seriously I get that. When I came back from overseas it was weeks before the nightmares stopped. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and think I was back with them, waiting for the beatings to start. I'd be in a cold sweat and my heart would be pounding out of my chest. It was bad for a while. I went through a debriefing process that included therapy but I guess with your training therapy would almost be an insult to your intelligence."

"It is a unique situation. I understand what is happening to me and I am aware of what measures I can take to alter my body's responses. The nightmares are disruptive more to Clarice than I as I've had periodic bouts with them in the past and am able to calm myself fairly quickly. She worries about me and seeing my discomfort causes her pain."

Hannibal walked over and sat in a large wing chair next to the fireplace.

Barney watched Hannibal's body language. Hannibal crossed his legs though in a very relaxed manner and allowed one arm to hang loosely at his side on the outside of the chair. He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and supported his chin with his thumb and forefinger. He looked pensive, not anxious.

Barney wished to remain physically close to add a level of comfort and support. He sat on the sofa directly across from him and spoke very quietly, "I imagine because you have such strict control over your responses during the day that your mind is using your dreams as a relief valve. Letting off the anxiety you won't allow yourself to vent consciously."

"That would be my assumption as well. Clarice would like me to discuss it with her but I am not certain that would be prudent."

Logan had a quizzical look on his face, "Why don't you talk to her about the nightmares and not the captivity. At least then she would feel like she's helping you."

Barney was in full agreement with Logan on that point, "Hannibal, Clarice is very empathetic to your needs. Just her being with you proves that. She loves you. If you shut her out of the healing process she's going to be even more upset."

Hannibal shook his head, "No…it would be too much."

Barney continued, "Hannibal, filter what you tell her but talk to her. It may not be what _you_ need but it's what _she_ needs. You could find that in helping her you may get some indirect therapeutic benefits as well."

"That may be," Hannibal considered, "She's been…disappointed in me of late. It may help."

"If you are still struggling with this next week you might want to drop in at Quantico. Bloom is supposed to lecture soon. You could bounce an idea or two off him. I talked to the guy a few times before I was cleared for this assignment. I think the Bureau wanted to be sure I wouldn't climb the clock tower and take out the town. He's a chubby little ball of a guy but he was pretty honest and it seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders."

Hannibal shifted his gaze and stared blankly at the fire. Barney again noticed the immediate disconnection.

"Hannibal doesn't need Bloom. He just needs to process how he's feeling. He can talk to us or to Clarice- it isn't as if Bloom has a magic pill or anything."

"Yes…Clarice. I'll talk to Clarice tonight. Thank you for the advice my friends."

Logan smiled when Hannibal called him a friend. He hadn't been around as long as Barney but he had risked his career to help Hannibal escape with Clarice. More important to Hannibal, Logan had proven he was trustworthy. Yes. He had earned the title of friend.

Barney had been at Hannibal's side through some of the worst days of his adult life. Barney stepped in many times, interceding on Hannibal's behalf to protect him, whenever possible, from Chilton's wrath. Hannibal did not consider Barney simply a friend.

Hannibal reached out and Barney grasped his hand. Much had passed between them. Their history was rich as it had emerged from the emotional excrement that was the Baltimore State Forensic Hospital. Their friendship had blossomed and flourished, much like a plant draws its nourishment from scat and thus blooms.

In a time when Hannibal was without help and almost without hope Barney was Kindness. Barney was Mercy…he was a godsend. No, Barney was not a mere friend. He was Hannibal's savior. The two shared a knowing nod.

"You have been a brother to me, Barney. There are no words…"

Hannibal squeezed his hand.

Barney returned the grip, his response simply, "There never had to be."

**OUR COUPLE**

Clarice was certain to enter the bed before Hannibal. In that way, Hannibal could decide how much physical contact he sought with no pressure from her. She rested on her side and waited.

It seemed an eternity before he entered their bed.

Hannibal slipped quietly between the sheets. He reached for her immediately and pulled her close. There was fabric between them and it took Hannibal by surprise.

"You are wearing a nightgown?"

"I have been all week."

"I'm sorry. Has it been that long?"

"Seems longer."

"Will you…remove it for me? I want to feel the warmth of your flesh against mine. I find that it calms me."

Clarice crossed her arms, grasped the silky fabric and pulled the garment over her head.

Hannibal's breath hitched as her breasts bobbed slightly upon release.

"Clariicce," just her name, drawn out as if stretching the syllables could capture that moment in time.

She quickly discarded the nightgown, tossing it onto a chair not far from their bed.

He spooned himself alongside her and dropped his chin over her shoulder resting his cheek against hers.

His breath was comforting, warm along her cheek. His voice was velvet, "You realize this situation hasn't anything to do with you, Yes?"

Clarice was emotional, "That's not true. It's everything to do with me. You had been _trying_. When I commented that you hadn't…you stopped. I should have kept my mouth shut. It wasn't my business."

"Everything about me is your business, Clarice. I promise not to shut you out of this. I am sorry I caused you pain," Hannibal ran his fingers up and down the length of her arm slowly, rolling his thumb under as the fingers rolled over as if performing a scale on the piano. "I would love to just…touch you. Would that upset you terribly? I have missed you. I have missed the feeling of your body, the softness of you."

He reached for her breast and cupped it gently. Clarice's breath caught in her throat. He could not see the tears welling in her eyes though he caught their salty scent. His mouth sought her neck.

"Hannibal…"

"Shhhh…please…let us just…be."

He pulled her shoulder directing her to turn toward him. She tried to blink back the tears but it was too late. He leaned in and kissed the spot where the tear settled.

"No tears, my Love. There is no need." Hannibal began to kiss his wife, the touch of his lips brushed gently against hers. He moved from her lips to her cheek following the elegant line of her neck, across her throat. He searched with his tongue the small bowl of flesh at the joining of her collarbone. He could taste her pulse.

Hannibal's lips drew into a soft smile as he felt the drumming of her heartbeat increase with his touch. He rested his head between her breasts and hugged her body, seeking to cradle the child within.

"My time with Emilia seems to have created side effects that are impacting our family, Clarice. I apologize for not involving you in my recovery. I am not used to traveling the path of life with someone by my side. Forgive me."

"There's no need to ask for my forgiveness but I want to help if I can."

"You help me each day more than you know," Hannibal reached up and rolled a flattened palm over her breast. The contact caused her to involuntarily shudder. "I have memorized each and every response your body has had to mine. I treasure you, Clarice. You are most precious to me."

"I treasure you as well, H. You are everything to me."

Hannibal reached up and captured her breast with his mouth. He could feel her head roll back, her desire obvious as her back arched slightly and her breathing increased. Feeling her flesh peak in his mouth Hannibal was encouraged and continued, latched to her flesh and sucking gently. She ran her fingers through his hair, lacing fistfuls of it between her fingers. Still he remained fixed to her, his lips and tongue searching, tasting. A low, breathy sigh escaped her; the sweet sound of it caused his heart to skip a beat and his stomach to flutter.

Hannibal's intention was to talk with her. His intention was to share his feelings. At this moment, all he wanted was to be within her. He explored the captive bit of flesh within his mouth, teasing with his lips, tongue and teeth.

"H…please no. Don't do this to me. Not if we can't…"

Hannibal released his hold on Clarice and gently lowered her shoulder to the bed. He swung a leg over her and mounted her body quickly though he did not move to enter her. His eyes burned with passion.

Clarice glanced down quickly and confirmed his desire. "H, are you sure?"

"I want you, Clarice…now."

Hannibal lowered his head and began to kiss her again, resting his body on his right forearm to support his weight keeping the bulk of it off Clarice. She pulled at his shoulders, eager for his touch.

"I want you, H…I need you."

Hannibal paused, making eye contact with Clarice, "I need you as well. Promise me your patience."

She nodded, "I promise H."

Hannibal kissed her this time much more passionately than he had previously. He moved over her with his mouth placing soft bites all along her body, nipping and tasting as he explored her upper body.

Clarice wanted to touch him but wasn't sure it would be welcome, "H…can I touch you?"

"You may touch my body whenever you wish Clarice. I am yours. You do not need permission."

Clarice reached between his legs. When she gripped him gently, he leaned into her body momentarily and buried his face against her neck.

"Does it hurt? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No, it is not painful…this is something I must…deal with but it is important that you do not stop touching me. Talk to me as well. I need to know it's you."

Clarice immediately understood, "She touched you like this H? Is that why it's upsetting to you?"

"Yes. My hands were chained. I need you to know that I was never aroused but there was no way for me to stop her Clarice. I'm sorry."

"How did you avoid that? It seems…impossible."

"If I felt at all…stimulated, I exacerbated my injuries. The pain eliminated the arousal. It was quite effective."

"Jesus…I'm so sorry H. I'll stop."

"No, Clarice. I need to get past this but I cannot on my own. I need your help my Love…talk to me."

Clarice whispered in his ear, "Did she kiss you H?"

"No, that I could avoid. I did not allow that which I could control."

"You've never kissed anyone but me. Kiss me and you'll know who you're with."

Hannibal tilted his head as he considered the idea. It was such a simple solution.

"My clever, clever girl," he praised a moment before taking her lips.

Clarice steadied her hand, allowing him the time to search her lips with his. As she felt him create a pattern with his movements, turning his head very slowly from side to side as he probed her mouth gently with his tongue, she began to move her hand.

His body tensed, just for a moment as she encouraged his body. His breathing released quickly from his nostrils, his exhalations harsh and sharp. She did not stay her hand.

Hannibal continued to kiss her deeply clutching at her mouth with his. He opened his mouth widely to accept her tongue circling his as her hand circled his flesh. She carefully matched the movement of her hand to the rhythm of his mouth on hers.

As he responded to her grasp his breathing began to quicken, his chest rising and falling quickly, his respiration intensified his exhalations snorting quickly against her face. She could feel his body expand, his body become rigid with anticipation, his body trembling at the warning of his oncoming release.

Hannibal released her mouth and reached for her right leg. He lifted and bent the leg at the knee opening her hip and centering himself between her legs. He was urgent in his movements.

He looked at Clarice. She nodded a quick approval and Hannibal dove toward her and pressed himself forward, filling her.

He waited, the gasp, the sigh that took his breath away. _My Clarice._

Again he searched for her lips, biting at the lower lip, tugging it, holding it in his mouth, sucking gently until she could feel it full from the attention. He moved with urgency not wanting to lose his heightened passion. He pulled her against him driving his hips toward hers. Still his lips on hers though now the kiss was need, it was passion, their teeth clashed as he bit and tugged at her lips, gasping for breath, his release upon him.

Clarice grabbed his buttocks, driving her hips into his. She gripped his lower lip with her teeth and held it. When she released his lip, it was bleeding slightly.

The taste of his blood stimulated him further, but Clarice released his lips. Confused, he sought to recapture them. Refusing, she turned her head and grabbed his as she whispered in his ear, "H…it's me, Clarice. Let it go… H…Let it go."

Hannibal's body tensed. She whispered again, remembering what he said to her the first time they made love. She hoped he would remember as well, "When you come for me, H…say my name…call to me my Love."

The sensual sound of her voice hummed sweetly in his ear and pushed him over the edge, far beyond the limits of his self-control. It caused Hannibal's body to seize as he approached his apogee the shudder that rocked Hannibal surprised Clarice in its violence. With no more than a soft whisper in his ear, she pursued him, "Call to me H…"

Hannibal's body tensed, in full spasm as he shuddered within her, "Clarriiicee," he called out almost gasping on the syllables with the exhilaration of his ecstasy. His body heaved several times, the pulse of his release causing his muscles to twitch sympathetically. He collapsed as she held him tightly. When, after a few minutes, he was able to regain his composure he whispered huskily in her ear, "Give me a few moments, Clarice and I will have you calling out my name as well."

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter my friends! Review to let me know what you think and don't forget to drop me a PM and say hello!**

**Until the next chapter!**

**LH**


	63. Chapter 63

**Hello my friends! Welcome back to No More a Savage Life: Chapter Two**

**WARNING: THIS IS A PARTICULARLY GRAPHIC CHAPTER AND I'M NOT TALKING LEMON!**

**DISCLAIMER-(It's been a while) No, I don't own them, didn't create them, make no money or claims on them but I do enjoy playing with them. I promise not to be **_**too**_** cruel. Seriously though...this is pretty cruel! It is a Hannfic after all. Lol!**

**Anyway you know the drill! Read, Enjoy and review! Drop me a pm and say hi!**

**LITHUANIA REVISITED**

Hannibal and Clarice made love several times that night. Early morning just before the sun rose, exhausted they fell into one another's arms. Clarice was content in her husband's embrace and slept soundly resting against Hannibal's chest.

Nestled in the comfort of his bed with his wife in his arms Hannibal remained uncommonly still in his slumber until the unforgiving moment he entered his dream cycle. His formerly prone form began to twitch and spasm. His wife, now hyper-vigilant to his needs, was alerted immediately to his obvious distress.

_Hannibal was chained by his neck to the banister and rail of a stairwell, the twisting links cutting deeply into his dehydrated flesh. He held Clarice in his arms, seeking to provide comfort and protecting her from something he could not identify though he was aware that it was terrifying. His exhausted body was anxiety ridden as he shuddered to maintain his body temperature. _

_**THEY WILL BE COMING SOON**__. _

_It had been days since food or water had touched his lips now cracked and bleeding from the lack of it._

_The front door swung open and crashed against the roughly hewn timbers of the wall behind it. From the entrance emerged a frail, somewhat emaciated man that had been sent to hunt for food. The Others' hearts were as empty as the hunter's hands. Starving, the Others crowded around and searched the bag slung around his chest. They reached in. The man had hidden a small bird at the bottom of the satchel._

_Obvious he had been attempting to hide food the Others pulled and punched at the man. They tore at the bird and ripped it apart with their merciless teeth. Each man chewed at the small body having pulled it from the grasp of the previous holder and gnashed it between their bloodied teeth. There was little meat, the meager offering not enough to sate the crowd. The largest and most ruthless of the group looked up to the landing where Hannibal was chained._

_Hannibal pulled Clarice tighter to his body. His heart pounded, his pulse throbbed as the pressure from his blood filled his ears. _

_**NO DON'T!**_

_They ascended the stairs._

_There were anxious and dissatisfied mumbles bubbling from the men. Their chatter sounded to Hannibal like an ominous warning much like the buzzing drone of a hornet's nest. He could smell their scents combining in an acrid pool of fear and desperation. _

_**DANGER IS NEAR.**_

_As they approached, Hannibal strained to hear wanting to prepare for their attack. Try as he might he could only distinguish two words rising from above the angry din._

_**TAKE IT.**_

_Hannibal clutched at Clarice, desperate as the men removed the chains binding him to his love. He was weak as he had been giving his food to Clarice the baby within her enhancing her needs. Hannibal laced his fingers until the blood had fled his knuckles. He struggled with all his might to fight them off. _

_It took the strength of seven men pulling at her small frame and removed her from Hannibal's grasp. The largest man pulled Hannibal's arms apart and lashed his wrists in crucifix fashion to the rails. Hannibal twisted and turned but could not release himself. He wringed his wrists bringing blood forth in a vain hope that the slippery fluid would aid his attempts to slip his hands from his bonds._

_They reached for Clarice._

Clarice stood from the bed and tried to get hold of Hannibal's hands, attempting to pin them to the bed. He thrashed violently, twisting in agony on the bed. She could not console or comfort him. He would not wake.

_The men crowed around and held Clarice down to the floor. Hannibal gasped. He opened his mouth to scream trying desperately to call for help. He reached with his legs and feet trying to take hold of her. Raging violently in his efforts to wrest her from his grasp Hannibal lunged against his bonds forcing the slats to creak against the strain his muscles placed upon them._

_As the men held Clarice down, arms and legs stretched spread eagle pinned to the wooden floor, a man stepped from between the Others._

_When Hannibal recognized Nico, Harpy in hand and moving toward Clarice he thrashed violently against the chains, now cutting deeply into his skin. As the metal twisted his muscle and flesh apart warm blood flowed._

_Hannibal was screaming though no words emerged, the terror in his throat having crushed them. He slammed his back against the rails attempting to break them and allow him easement._

_Nico approached Clarice, kneeling beside her he lifted her blouse._

_Hannibal screamed. _

_**NO CLARICE! NOOOO!**_

_Nico swept the blade across the underside of Clarice's belly. Her eyes rolled up as the wound yawned open, jagged like the wicked smile of a jack o lantern. Nico reached within Clarice and removed the baby. Nico grasped it by it's ankles and tugged at the cord linking mother to child until the placenta was ripped from her womb._

_The men took the baby with the life giving organ still tethered to it now crying from the cold and grabbing a copper cistern went about preparing their macabre feast. The blunt end of a maul and a flash of exertion by Nico immediately dispatched the child._

**_I NO LONGER HUSBAND. I AM NO LONGER FATHER. I AM NOTHING._**

_Clarice lay open and bleeding. Hannibal raged in anguish. Desperate to escape he leaned forward and launched his body backward with reckless abandon throwing his body fully against the rails breaking them. He was able to free himself and quickly moved to Clarice, the life ebbing from her. He grasped at the wound, horrible in its efficiency. His fingers were slick against her flesh from the sticky serum pumping freely. He could not close the wound. Hannibal cradled Clarice until the life left her, screaming in anguish at his loss. He collapsed over her body gathering her close to him. He rocked her back and forth, his tears falling like rain over her face. _

_He is Pain._

Clarice grabbed her husband's shoulders and shook him violently until he snapped awake and sat straight up in bed. His body was shaking violently, reacting to the terror of his nightmare. Clarice climbed across the bed and wrapped her arms around her husband. She held him tightly.

Hannibal grasped at her body, pulling her to him as if to prove she remained untouched. The desperate husband hyperventilated, choking from want of air. The tears streamed continuously down his face.

Clarice held him close repeating, "It was only a dream…it was only a dream."

Hannibal turned on his side and pulled her against him, huddling his body over hers in a position of comfort and protection. With his body Hannibal formed a carapace to shield her from harm.

Clarice allowed her husband to calm very slowly. She did not attempt to insert herself in his recovery from the emotion of the experience thinking it important that he process it. More than an hour passed before he spoke. She had been perfectly still, resting within his embrace. He spoke three words articulating his needs to her fluently. Low in her ear, his voice raspy from his cries he whispered…

"Clarice…Hold me."

**Sorry my friends. I made it a little shorter because it was a tough one to read. You didn't think he'd get better that quickly did you? Devious, I know. Review and let me know what you think!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	64. Chapter 64

**Hello my wonderful friends! Enjoy the chapter!**

**THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM**

It was not merely unusual for Hannibal to ask for comfort from another human being it was patently unheard of and quite frankly it shocked Clarice. She was well aware that her husband had not sought out either physical or emotional support from another person since very early in his childhood.

What she was not aware of was the fact that he would not have sought her help at all if not for Barney and Logan's advice. In other words the asking of it was as much for her comfort, perhaps more so, than it was for his.

Hannibal Lecter loved his wife very much but he was also a man who did not require conventional emotional reinforcement.

Clarice held him, her body unusually warm from the heat of her pregnancy and Hannibal was surprised to find himself soothed by the experience much more than he had expected to be. Hannibal rested quietly assessing his physiology system by system as he experienced the chemical response to this relief with the curiosity of a scientist peering through the eyepiece of a microscope.

Finding his emotional experiment to be quite successful thus far and knowing his wife was concerned for his welfare he decided to take Logan's advice and tell Clarice of the dream. It seemed that Barney's advice was also useful as filtering the information given to Clarice would minimize her worry. He spoke very softly certain to make his voice soothing for her in order that he might counter her emotional response to the experience.

"Clarice?"

"Yeah H?"

"You were in my dream as was Nico. He hurt you and I was unable to stop him. I could not protect you, Clarice and the thought of it within my dream terrified me."

"It was just a dream H. You already protected me from Nico. I watched you plant your Harpy in his chest and pull his heart out of the hole. He's dead. You did that H. You killed him to protect our family. I'm safe because of you."

"He killed our baby as well."

"No, _you_ killed _him_," Clarice hugged him tightly, "and he can _never_ hurt us _again_."

She kissed his chest and smoothed her hand across the breadth of it, her hand rising on his ribs like a raft on a swell. He grasped her hand and pressed it to his body so that she could feel the beat of his heart pounding slowly but with unusual force. He breathed deeply in an effort to minimize the chemical changes his body was experiencing.

"Your heart is not beating fast, but it's really pounding a lot harder than normal."

Hannibal understood her concern though he did not share it. His body's responses to stress were efficient and while awake he was exceedingly adept at controlling his physiology. "There is no need to worry, Clarice. It is the fight or flight response. My body responds to the anxiety of the offending dream by flooding my sympathetic nervous system with adrenalin. It is a defense mechanism that I am certain you have studied at length preparing for your assignment to behavioral sciences. There is no cause for concern. It will settle down soon enough."

"What about the nightmares? When do you think they'll stop?" Clarice questioned as she curled against his body. She rested her ear against his chest to listen to the beat of his heart.

The baby kicked raising a smile from his father, "I felt that little one. You always make yourself known when I have need of you."

Clarice lifted her head to make eye contact, "What do you mean when you have need? What need?"

"Though I had never considered having children prior to our relationship Clarice I find comfort in the prospect of fatherhood. This child is the fulfillment of a wish I had never dared to voice. It is a dream that I did not allow myself to consider. When I hold you in my arms and feel the life of our child as it grows within you I am a fully contented man."

Clarice breathed a deep sigh and returned to rest. There was relief in her voice, "It makes me happy to hear you say that H. I worry about it a lot."

"You worry about what my Love?" Hannibal asked with genuine curiosity. He found women to be magnificent in every detail especially in their ability to feel empathy and concern. His wife was particularly sensitive to him. Empathy was an emotion that Hannibal had considered somewhat superfluous to his needs previous to his relationship with Clarice.

Clarice whispered the sentence as if the speaking of it were somehow taboo, "I worry about how you feel. I know the baby wasn't planned."

Hannibal dismissed the thought with a tsk and kissed the top of Clarice's head. "The child may not have been planned nonetheless he will be most welcome."

Still worried about her husband's response to the nightmare and seeking comfort through contact with his body Clarice searched her husband's side with her left hand gently memorizing the patterns of the scars with her fingers. She bumped the padded tips along the ridges and bumps as if his scars were a record of his emotional wounds. She pressed upon his flesh reading the newly formed fibroblasts much like the blind might read braille.

Still she whispered her words as if too frightened to speak them, "I'm a little worried H. What if the nightmares don't stop before the baby is born?"

Hannibal had not expected this question and the voicing of it was cause for his immediate concern. "Clarice? Surely you realize as a trained psychiatrist I fully understand the process and it is well within my control. I present no danger to you."

"I know that H."

He pursued the line of questioning and quickly began to extrapolate information based on the answers she provided to his questions. "If you understand that I will not hurt you the next question that begs asking is whether you'll please clarify your statement? Are you worried about the prospect of the nightmares continuing for the baby's sake or for mine?"

She kissed the rounded keloid where Stuart's bullet exited her husband's body. "Is there a reason it can't be both?"

Hannibal was becoming increasingly agitated by the conversation. His voice took on its metallic hiss. "You obviously have an agenda, Clarice. I'm asking you to save me the trouble of deducing it although I am fairly certain I already know what it is you are considering. I must say I find the thought of it disconcerting in the extreme and it is my most sincere hope that you have not pursued it as I would be most distressed."

"Don't be ridiculous H. You have no idea what I am considering."

With one direct question Hannibal tackled her verbally, "Clarice, do you believe that I am unaware Dr. Bloom will be lecturing at Quantico in one week's time?"

Clarice was upset that Hannibal was already aware of Bloom's visit. She did not attempt to quiet her frustration, "Fucking Logan! I swear that Jarhead can't keep his mouth shut to save his life."

Hannibal's response was direct and defensive, "He may not be able to keep his mouth shut to save _his_ life but he did keep his mouth shut to save _our_ lives, Clarice. We would not have had our freedom or our home in Argentina if not for his cooperation."

"You're right…it's just that…"

"_It's just that_ what Clarice? Were you considering setting up a consultation without my knowledge? I would have been most upset."

"No…I hoped that you might…"

"You hoped that I might what? Volunteer? Knowing how I feel about Bloom that does seem unlikely does it not?"

"When you put it that way it does. I just thought, because we have to go in next week for your meeting we might speak to him."

"Had you arranged a meet and greet or an awkward faux collision in a random hallway?" he questioned with an edge to his voice.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch H. I didn't speak to Bloom. I wouldn't do that behind your back. I know better than to try and outsmart you. Not to mention that would be a level of betrayal you would have a problem ignoring."

"I would forgive you anything at all Clarice but if I found you had contacted that man it would irritate me in the extreme. Whether or not you realize it Bloom had a rather long professional relationship with Doctor Chilton. He did in fact play intermediary in my interaction with Will Graham and while I have no evidence that he participated in designing the petty torments Chilton initiated, I put Bloom's face on the discomfort of my incarceration as well. Please be honest with me in this regard."

_Don't lie to me or I'll know._

Her hand stumbled across the collection of collagenous fibers where the bundle of arrows had found their mark so many years ago. She searched it swirling her thumb in a circle as she slowly perused the raised area by touch. "I considered contacting him, that's all."

Hannibal was firm in his reply a clear warning that this subject was now closed. "Consider it no longer, Clarice."

**CHUM IN THE WATER**

Hannibal and Clarice had showered and readied for the day. Hannibal moved about the house, the sounds of Bach soaring up to the high ceilings from the speakers installed throughout the home. Suddenly Hannibal's enjoyment of the notations was interrupted by the blaring ring of the doorbell intrusive in its interruption. Hannibal was a sensory driven man and there were sounds that he found pleasurable and sounds that were discomforting in the extreme. After his escape from incarceration during the years he remained in hiding the doorbell was not a welcome sound. It was more a warning that someone uninvited beckoned and as such was cause for great concern. Hannibal's body and mind aligned to alert immediately.

Clarice entered the hallway at the same time as Hannibal and noticed his eyes ablaze with concern.

"Something is wrong Clarice. There is the smell of blood and fear in the air."

"It's not as if every law enforcement agent within a hundred mile radius does not already know where we live H. We aren't in hiding anymore, remember? We have nothing to be concerned about no matter who or what you smell."

Hannibal nodded, "Droll Clarice…very droll."

Hannibal turned to walk away and allow Clarice to answer the door. She walked through the entry and as soon as she saw the person who rang them she turned to Hannibal and called out, "H…I can't handle this…I need you."

Hannibal moved quickly to the door to see his elderly neighbor standing, shaking uncontrollably his hands and his shirt covered in blood. They opened the outer door to allow him entrance and escape from the cold. The elderly man stood very quietly shaking from fear and the diseases that were threatening to overtake him. He grasped the lapels of Hannibal's suit only spoke four words, "Help…it's… my…wife."

Exhausted from the exertion the elderly man collapsed in Hannibal's arms.

Hannibal lifted his neighbor and carried him to the living room placing him gently on the sofa. He moved to cover him with an elegant quilt. "Watch him carefully Clarice he looks to be in shock. I will get some medical supplies and see to our neighbor's needs."

Hannibal quickly left the room, opened a closet door in the front entryway and retrieved a medical bag. He also grabbed a very large medical supply kit and dashed out the front door. Seeing his neighbor stretched out on the sidewalk mere steps from Hannibal's front door he rushed back and pushed his front door open. He called after Clarice, "Call 911! We will need an ambulance. Tell them she's been attacked and I am beginning treatment. Hurry she is having difficulty breathing. Something has compromised her airway."

Clarice knew there would be a situation as soon as the call was made. The ambulance would be on the way as well as the police and fire departments. Each branch of emergency and rescue services would be alerted. Clarice was also fully aware the every news outlet in the area monitored the police scanners.

There was an assault with injury outside the home of Hannibal Lecter. The chum was in the water, the sharks would soon circle and the feeding frenzy was about to begin.

**Thanks for reading and very special thanks to all of my wonderful fan fic friends who continue to review with such dedication. You make every day such a joy!**

**To my new friends- Review and tell me what you think then drop me a pm and say hello!**

**Until the next chapter!**

**LH**


	65. Chapter 65

**WELCOME BACK TO NO MORE A SAVAGE LIFE: CHAPTER TWO**

**A special note of thanks to the followers of this story! You are so dedicated! I want you to know how appreciated you are. It is a tremendous compliment and is extremely humbling that you continue to follow my story and review so consistently. You have no idea how much you inspire me! My most grateful thanks my fan fic friends!**

**HANNIBAL BOUND**

Hannibal rushed as quickly as possible to the injured woman's side his arms flung wide swinging the bags filled with life-saving medical supplies. The elderly woman was unconscious on the pavement with her small dog circling in a panic beside her. Hannibal worried that it might wander into the road so he tied the leash to his medical supply bag as it was too heavy for the tiny animal to drag.

Hannibal assessed the situation. It appeared as if someone had attempted to steal his neighbor's purse. The good doctor believed she must have had the bag slung across her chest though it was now wrapped around her throat. He lifted her gently and removed the bag to ease the pressure on her in injury. He was careful to maintain support of her neck in the event of spinal cord involvement.

Hannibal's mind began to process all of the information available considering every aspect of her situation that he might accurately assess her needs.

_The attacker probably attempted to pull the bag over her head. She has a bloody rash on the side of her face and the fabric of her coat is torn. She must been dragged a fair distance and was strangled by her bag…there is edema… deep bruising… her airway has all but closed off. _

Hannibal reached into his first aid kit and located the trache tube. He tore it out of the plastic seal and placed it momentarily on his neighbor's chest. Though she was attempting to breathe, the swelling from her injuries prevented her from receiving the proper amount of oxygen. She was fighting for her life, the strider whistling within her signaled the extensive damage. In spite of her tiny body's herculean efforts to keep her alive, she was beginning to turn blue.

A crowd had begun to gather giving Hannibal some cause for concern. He looked up quickly to assess the safety of the situation. His eyes flashed with the intensity of his efforts and the tiny pinpoints of red swirling from his irises flew toward the blackness of his pupils. His eyes appeared to glow.

The flash of his distinctive orbs caused instantaneous recognition and a surge of respectful fear among the assemblage. The hissed warnings simmered and bubbled through the crowd much like a heated pot slowly rolls to a boil. It became known very quickly by this whispered word of mouth that Doctor Hannibal Lecter was treating the woman. Upon reception of this fact it was as if the group had taken a deep collective breath and held their inhalations. Terrified, they began to step back one by one to assure a safe distance moving very slowly away drifting from him the way an outgoing tide moves from the shore.

_They don't have a name for what he is._

The area was now overrun with a swarm of onlookers. Up to this point only one police vehicle had reached the scene. Hannibal's instincts were functioning on overdrive as the continuous release of adrenaline and endorphins rapidly flooded his system. He was now hyperaware as his assessment of the incoming stimuli warned the situation was now extremely volatile.

Reporters launched themselves from satellite trucks like rats through a sewer pipe, the distinctive slide of the van doors marking their exits, cameras already rolling.

Hannibal was surrounded by possible threats, the danger to him very real though his only concern was the frail woman who had been so welcoming to him. He had taken many lives. This was a life he intended to restore.

Clarice was oblivious to Hannibal's precarious situation as she tended to the victim's husband though when she heard the squeal of tires and the wail of sirens she realized he was unprotected. The concerned wife ran to the control panel located in the foyer. Clarice quickly pressed several buttons, checked a small monitor and when she was certain she had accomplished her task, returned to Mr. Wagner.

_Don't worry H…I've got you covered. _

Hannibal tore off his suit jacket and rolled it. He very carefully wrapped the rolled material around his neighbor's neck in order to secure her spine, elevate her head and tilt it slightly to more fully expose her throat to him.

He then palpated the area and identified the indentations between the woman's tiny Adam's apple and the Cricoid cartilage. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his Harpy. When he thumbed the blade and snapped his wrist away from his body to open it a spontaneous gasp rose from the crowd.

Someone from within the crowd screamed, "He's got that goddamned knife. Stop him."

A large policeman with too much testosterone and too few brains, obviously unconcerned that backup had yet to arrive moved from his vehicle and began to push his way through the center of the crowd. The officer surged forward with utter disregard for the crowd as he tossed bystanders quickly from his path wholly unconcerned as to the assaultive nature of his movements.

The intense wave of sudden scent displacement created as the man bullied his way through the masses caused Hannibal to raise an eyebrow and shift his attention from the injured woman to the crowd.

_There is danger._

Hannibal immediately identified the looming threat. Still the doctor nursed the hope that the officer might recognize his obvious attempts to triage and treat the gravely ill woman. He hoped the policeman might halt his aggressive momentum though Hannibal's hopes were for naught.

The very moment Hannibal moved to pierce the elderly woman's throat with the tip of the Harpy he heard the man call out, "Doctor Lecter, move away from your victim and put your weapon on the ground. Do it without any sudden movement and kick it away from your body. Next, unless you feel like taking a bullet you need to hit the deck face down and lace your fingers on top of your head. Do it now!"

"She is not my victim she is my patient and she will die if you interrupt her treatment," Hannibal explained calmly as he extended his hands, palms forward in an obviously non-threatening gesture.

"Officer, please allow me to proceed as she cannot breathe and I'm attempting to secure an airway. She is my neighbor and a friend. I would never do anything to hurt her."

Hannibal's effort to calm served to have the opposite effect. The officer was now enraged, his arms extended with his gun drawn. His eyes were fixed on Hannibal as he continued to move forward.

Hannibal placed the Harpy beside the injured woman and laced his fingers on top of his head. The officer, now emboldened, obviously played to the cameras. He grabbed Hannibal by the shoulders and though no aggressive movements had been made, tossed him over his hip thus sending Hannibal's shoulders slamming flat against the cold cement sidewalk.

The collision and subsequent roll caused the older man to smash the side of his head onto the pavement opening a cut above his left cheek. The wound, though not very large, bled profusely and painted Hannibal's Italian silk shirt crimson curiously matching his irises.

Hannibal scrambled to his feet to see the large man beckoning with a wave, a gesture Hannibal assumed signaled he would welcome a fight. Hannibal repeated his intention though it was now tempered with an underlying threat.

"I beg you, she doesn't have much time. I am not seeking to harm. You are preventing me from assisting a woman that I care for. I assure you I will no longer tolerate the interruption as she is in a grave circumstance."

"Yeah I'm not lettin' you kill the poor old thing."

With his gun still drawn, the foolish officer once again approached.

_Never forget what he is._

Hannibal waited until the man was within his striking distance knowing that the officer, not accustomed to dealing with him, would underestimate his speed and range. Hannibal bowed his head and stooped his shoulders assuming a submissive position thus giving the officer a false impression that he would again surrender.

Using his peripheral vision Hannibal waited patiently poised until he assessed the distance was sufficient enough to achieve the desired effect. Hannibal then vaulted toward the officer with mind bending speed, grasped the weapon and disarmed him. Hannibal ended the standoff with a twisting right cross that landed squarely on the cop's jaw. The man's head snapped to the side, the force of the blow sending him crumbling to the pavement.

The crowd surged, surrounding Hannibal the pressing scent of their fear amused him. Sensing no presence of aggression, he ignored the crush of the mob dismissing their intent.

Fully understanding the power of his past, at the moment he retrieved the Harpy, Hannibal flashed a look of warning toward the crowd as he snapped the blade open. The sight of Hannibal Lecter holding the instrument of such utter destruction, his beloved Harpy, was more than enough incentive to discourage further acts of misplaced bravery.

Hannibal did not check to see if the officer was unconscious. At the moment he touched the man's chin he was certain of the outcome. He returned to Mrs. Warden, inserted his Harpy into the hole he had initiated and carefully rocked the point of the blade into the flesh creating a very neat half-inch horizontal incision directly into the Cricothyroid membrane.

Hannibal used his right hand to pinch the area and slightly purse the opening. He then inserted the index finger of his left hand to spread open the tissue and allow access for the trache tube. There was little blood so Hannibal took the small plastic tube and twisted it into the opening. He worked it gently within until it rested an inch deep inside her body.

When he was certain the tube had been accurately placed and was indeed secure, Hannibal lowered his head and breathed two very quick exhalations into the tube with his head angled that he might monitor the rise and fall of her chest. He paused several seconds and repeated the action. Again, he paused momentarily. Finally he could hear the woman breathing through the tube on her own. Upon intake the color returned to her face.

Hannibal lifted his medical kit and the bag with the first aid supplies, turned, and walked toward his home with the Wagner's tiny dog skipping along beside him. He staggered for a step or two Clarice opened the door to help him.

"The Warden's dog was left alone to fend for itself. I could not leave it to wander into the road. I'm afraid we will have to care for it until they are well enough to attend to it."

"No problem, H. I'll sort it out."

Just as Hannibal stumbled back from Mrs. Warden the paramedics arrived and removed Mr. Warden from the home. Clarice assisted and when the elderly gentleman had been safely transported, she returned to her husband.

"What the fuck happened, H?" she asked with obvious concern.

"I'm getting far too old for this that's what happened, Clarice."

"Don't be such a wise ass you know what I mean."

"It would seem one of the members of the Baltimore Police Department didn't agree with my treatment plan of Mrs. Warden therefore I was forced to enlighten him. No doubt his friends have by now found him face down in the street so please prepare yourself Clarice. I am certain we will soon have company."

"Don't worry, H. We can handle this."

There was a pounding on the outside door as their doorbell was disregarded to the physical assault of the aggressive knocking.

Hannibal reached for Clarice, put his arms around her and kissed her gently. "I love you very much, Clarice. I apologize that I was unable to avoid this difficulty. Please call Ardelia."

The Officers surged through the doorway with the violence of a cell extraction and grabbed Hannibal. He offered no resistance as they spun him around and slammed him against the wall, his bloodied cheek leaving an imprint on the paint. Hannibal was now restrained by several officers as they searched his pockets, finding and removing the Harpy. They placed him in handcuffs mirandizing him as they shoved him through the front door of his home. The cameras rushed forward, microphones waving as reporters pressed to ask questions. Clarice rushed back to the panel in the hallway as the Baltimore Police Department took her husband from this home and once again into their custody.

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**Until the next chapter my dedicated friends!  
>LH<strong>


	66. Chapter 66

**Hello my friends and welcome back! Enjoy this chapter. You know the plan! Read, Review and PM to say hi! **

**LH**

**HIGH POWERED PERCEPTION**

Hannibal was dragged by two large officers to a waiting patrol car. Several local reporters were chasing closely behind attempting to ask questions. Hannibal craned his neck in an effort to see if his neighbors had been removed to the hospital. A local reporter tipped a microphone in his direction.

"Doctor Lecter how are you feeling Sir?"

The attractive and ambitious young broadcaster jogged alongside Hannibal as the police hurried him with his hands cuffed behind his back to a waiting unmarked car. She had a ponytail bobbing behind her and reminded Hannibal of a young Clarice.

Hannibal saw an opportunity and sought to capitalize, "The more important question is how are my neighbors feeling? Did you see them being removed? Are they well?"

The reporter was thrilled that she had his attention and spoke very quickly knowing her time with Lecter would be brief. Out of breath she answered his questions as thoroughly as she could, "They were transported by ambulance a moment ago. The older gentleman was sitting up. His wife's eyes were open and she was gesturing, asking about her dog. When someone told her you took it into your home I saw her smile. You saved her life Doctor Lecter. How does it feel to be a hero?"

The woman again angled the microphone toward Hannibal. He answered with a charming grin and a mischievous glint in his maroon eyes, "Courtesy of a certain member of the Baltimore Police Department it feels much like going a round or two with Mike Tyson."

The door to the squad car was opened and Hannibal, obviously no stranger to squad cars smiled widely at the reporter and stepped in sideways with his left leg, gracefully lowered his shoulder and angled his body careful not to bang his head on the vehicle.

The police officer Hannibal had knocked unconscious was sitting on the curb being attended to by a paramedic. This was quite amusing to Hannibal and when the officer accidentally made eye contact, Hannibal winked at him. The man was obviously embarrassed and quickly averted his eyes as if the lack of acknowledgement would lessen his mortification of the incident.

**THE JAIL**

The squad car was driven into a garage with a much more private entrance. There were already scores of reporters lining the sidewalk so the officers were directed by the shift supervisor not to march Hannibal in the front door.

As Hannibal stepped out of the car he inhaled deeply.

_Terror? Really gentlemen I don't even have a weapon on me._

Hannibal was polite, exceedingly cooperative and moved politely through the intake process. He was seen first by the nurse to assess his health and psychological status.

"Are you feeling anxious at all Doctor Lecter?"

"Yes though not unduly so given the circumstances. I sense that you are quite anxious as well. This is a very stressful job I take it?"

"It can be. Do you feel as though you might hurt yourself?"

"No I have no need to hurt myself when there are so many others who are so willing and able to do it for me."

"Are you having suicidal thoughts?"

"No. I was referring to the cut on my cheek although it appears as if the bleeding has stopped. I'm certain it isn't attractive by the look of my shirt. I must apologize for my present state. I would ask to use the men's room to clean myself up a bit but somehow I think it would be disallowed. The officers arrived at my home before I could tend to it."

"I can clean that up for you."

"Thank you, you are most kind."

The nurse stood and approached cautiously. As she moved closer, the officer guarding the area lessened the distance as well.

Hannibal could practically hear their hearts beating. He enjoyed the tension in their faces, eyebrows knitted together in quiet desperation as they attempted to perform their jobs all the while fearing they might lose their lives. Hannibal was amused until he saw the shift supervisor wheeling in the restraint chair and bite mask.

Outwardly Hannibal was calm though his body was having an intensely negative reaction to the visual stimuli of the restraint device. His heart began to beat with a heavy thump as if the hand of Death pounded a fist against his sternum. He wanted to ask for help. He thought he might be able to if he were indirect about it.

"May I ask why the chair is present?" Hannibal questioned attempting to mask his concern. He was uncertain how his body would react to the restraint. He immediately began to assess his physiology as he processed the response.

Although the nurse seemed quite sympathetic the shift supervisor and the attending officer did not seem to be as concerned with Hannibal's opinion.

"It's for our comfort and for your safety."

"How is being strapped to that device conducive to my safety? I would be entirely at your mercy and unable to defend myself in any way. And precisely how is my discomfort any comfort at all to you? That seems quite a sadistic statement."

The shift supervisor twirled his index finger above his head, his obvious signal to proceed with the restraint.

Hannibal considered the motivation of the very short man was fear so he sought to reassure, "I am no threat to you. I have offered absolutely no resistance and have been entirely cooperative as a sign of my good faith. I am asking for a similar sign that you not place me in that chair as I have had a very recent physical trauma and restraint would exacerbate the wounds."

"I've been here the entire time and I see no evidence of wounds other than that cut on your face," the attending guard chimed in unsympathetically.

"Not all wounds are visible," Hannibal quickly countered. He addressed the shift supervisor, "I am asking you not to place me in that chair as I will not react well."

"I don't remember needing your permission, Hannibal."

"Hannibal is it? Have we been formally introduced?" the metallic edge to his voice more pronounced with his displeasure.

"We don't need to be introduced everybody knows who the hell you are," the shift supervisor turned to his subordinates and in an angry tone barked out the order, "What the hell is everybody waiting for? Put him in the goddamned chair!"

Though Hannibal did not fight the officers his body became so rigid from want to avoid the restraint that it took four men, one on each leg and two to force his shoulders down, bend his knees and drive him down into the seat and all the while Hannibal's body trembled violently in response to the stress.

The officers each had charge of restraining a different part of Hannibal's anatomy. His shoulders were held down by belts that crossed Hannibal's chest and were strapped tightly to a clevis located behind the bend of his elbows. A lap belt tied down his waist. Next the men strapped Hannibal's ankles securely to the clevis just behind the deck plate of the chair. Wrist straps held his arms to the rests on their respective sides.

Fully trussed with no ability to move and fighting the anxiety the restraint was causing Hannibal needed a target and a distraction. The focus would be the shift supervisor and the distraction would be to fight back with the one and only weapon at his disposal, his high powered perception. He took aim directly at the shift supervisor his weakness was far too obvious.

_This is going to be fun!_

Hannibal fired the first salvo, "One would think that a man of your obvious proclivity to sadism would be far better suited to another form of work. Perhaps with our national security problems abroad the current administration could find a place for you interrogating enemy combatants. No doubt it would be an enjoyable endeavor for an individual of your _stature_."

The reference to his height was not wasted on the supervisor. He raged, "You some kind of comedian? I've heard all the short jokes in the world my friend so you've got nothing I haven't heard and I know you're a psychiatrist so don't try and diagnose me with some kind of napoleon complex!"

"Actually the term 'Napoleon complex' is not a diagnosis it is merely an informal reference to the inferiority complexes that often plague exceedingly short men. The term does not appear in the APA'S Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental disorders and as such is not a recognized diagnosis. In all actuality Napoleon was in fact actually five foot six inches tall therefore _you_ would probably have to _grow_ another four inches to be tall enough to qualify."

"Go fuck yourself!"

"A man of your _standing_ may have the need to perform that particular pleasure on yourself. I have no such concern as I am a happily married man. My wife Clarice is perfection as I am certain you will see. She is no doubt on her way and she will not be pleased. Placing me in this chair is rather…shall we say _short_ sighted of you."

The nurse stepped back, laughing so hard from the incredibly one sided nature of the verbal assault that she was doubled over at the waist and leaning on her desk.

The shift supervisor, angry that he had been so publicly bested, increased his orders, "He's being combative. Bag him."

"If you have been made _short _shrift of please know I would have been much more kind to you had the courtesy of a chair _without _restraints been extended to me."

Hannibal searched the air, his nostrils flaring widely. Clarice was near. Her scent was moving toward him at and extremely rapid pace. He sought to warn, "My wife is in the building and will be arriving soon. She is accompanied by two men. I do not know them but I am certain, if she is bringing them you will not be pleased to see them. It would have been much better for you had she found me comfortable. Thankfully she arrived before you placed anything over my face. She will be monumentally displeased."

Suddenly Clarice appeared from around the corner speaking in a very authoritative tone, "Hannibal had better be safe cuz if anything happens to him…"

She was accompanied by the Mayor and the police chief. Clarice had stormed the mayor's office with the footage from the security cameras mounted outside their home. She had redirected them when she heard the sirens knowing Hannibal would need reliable evidence of his actions. The mayor, upon seeing the footage called in the police chief.

Clarice spotted Hannibal strapped motionless to the chair and raged at his treatment, "What the fuck is going on here and don't tell me he was uncooperative because that would be bullshit!"

The police chief approached and rolled his eyes when he saw Hannibal. He called the shift supervisor over, obviously extremely upset. "Has Doctor Lecter been uncooperative?" the police chief asked under his breath his trepidation obvious.

The shift supervisor appeared very confused by the question, "What do you mean?"

The mayor stepped in, "He is asking you why you utilized that chair? Did Doctor Lecter resist in any way to cause you to place him in this level of restraint? Was he physically threatening to the staff in some way since his arrival?"

The shift supervisor shook his head and spoke regretfully, "No…but…he's…"

Clarice was nowhere near as diplomatic in her questioning. Her voice was raised and her tone irate, "Then what the fuck is my husband doing in that goddamned restraint chair, Officer? Why is he being treated so severely because one of your colleagues has no self-control and even less brains?"

The mayor was not amused and demanded an answer, "Mrs. Lecter has asked a question and we are all waiting for an answer…"

"He's in the chair because…he's…he's _Hannibal Lecter_," the supervisor stressed as he gestured to Hannibal as if the speaking of the name should explain Hannibal's current state of incarceration.

The chief of police was in no way enthralled or even remotely amused by the explanation. He started to poke the shift supervisor in the chin. He ranted uncontrollably, "Are you goddamned kidding me? He's got a goddamned presidential pardon…for Christ's sake what the hell is wrong with the people in this department? He just got his ass kicked for saving his elderly neighbor's life and then you stupid son 'o bitches strap him to that contraption! This is the cluster fuck of the goddamned century! Now I've got the White House asking why the news coverage shows Hannibal Lecter being assaulted by some ape of an officer after saving a woman's life, then you idiots drag him here and treat him like this. Haven't any of you even glanced at the television in your waiting room? He's all over every goddamned channel! Now you release this man from that chair right now or I'm gonna toss your ass out that door and you can cry to the union when you find yourself putting tickets on parked cars like a fucking meter maid!"

The shift supervisor and the attending officers moved quickly to remove Hannibal from the chair. He stood quietly. Clarice put her arms around him protectively. As Hannibal returned the embrace Clarice could feel the slight tremor in his body, his sense memory still shuddered from the restraint.

Clarice was not delicate in her response to his ordeal, "I'm so sorry, H. We'll make these assholes pay for this."

Hannibal cupped her face gently in his hands and kissed her very tenderly on the lips. When he released her he let his right hand trace her jawline. He smoothed his hand along her throat, across her collarbone, gliding over her shoulder and down her arm. It was an intimate scene as the comfort of his hand on her body obviously soothed him. He spoke softly when he was certain the tremor in his body would not stall his voice, "There is no need Clarice. I am fine."

The mayor extended his hand. "I am so sorry this happened to you Doctor Lecter. There will be an investigation and as I promised your wife…heads will roll."

Hannibal took the man's hand and shook it firmly. "A similar handshake from the offending officer would suffice. He was merely overzealous in his efforts to defend my neighbor. I have no wish to see him punished. I noticed a wedding ring on his finger and it was particularly bright. No doubt he is newly married."

The police chief was shocked by the statement. He voiced his surprise, "Yeah his name is Peterson. He and his sweetheart of a wife got married about three weeks ago. I danced at his wedding but rest assured for this I was going to fire that moron." He looked over to Clarice obviously confused, "I thought you wanted his head on a platter?"

Clarice wondered what her husband was up to but figured he was already thinking five or six steps ahead. Trusting him implicitly she quickly deferred, "Whatever Hannibal wants…that's what I want."

Hannibal ran his fingers vigorously through his hair. "What I want is a brief apology a handshake and a hot bath."

The mayor saw an opportunity and hoped Hannibal would be cooperative, "Would you be amenable to doing that at a press conference Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal smiled, "Certainly Mr. Mayor… with the exception of the bath of course!"

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**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	67. Chapter 67

**WELCOME BACK MY FRIENDS! **

**HANNIBAL'S DIGNITY**

Clarice rushed Hannibal out of the jail as quickly as possible. He was still having subtle physical reactions to the restraint chair and her concern was for his welfare, not for the mayor or the police chief.

The mayor was positively drooling over the propaganda coup presented him and thundered behind them plodding forward several steps in a vain attempt to catch up. When he realized his girth and lack of fitness precluded this he called after them excitedly, "Doctor Lecter, I'll have my office contact you with the specifics of the press conference tomorrow afternoon."

Hannibal waved a hand graciously but did not stop walking. Clarice had hooked her arm through his, clasped his forearm and continued moving effectively pulling Hannibal along with her. For her piece of mind, Hannibal was content to let his wife control the situation and thus made no effort to halt her momentum.

Clarice was singularly unimpressed with the new developments and mumbled a string of obscenities, "Goddamned fucking fuck who does that fat ass think he is…call my house…he'd better pray you pick up the phone H or I'll reach into the receiver and rip _his_ heart out!"

The comments amused Hannibal greatly. "Why are you so disturbed, Clarice? The events of the day while inconvenient could not have been more fortuitous."

They moved through the levels of the jail and out to the secluded and secured parking area. They remained undetected. Hannibal was amused at how vehemently Clarice complained.

"Fortuitous my ass…" Clarice walked with determination to the car her eyes searching ahead as she spoke, "…and what the hell are you talking about anyway? You're allowing that piece of crap mayor to use you for his own political agenda," she was upset at the situation and was exceptionally vocal with her displeasure, "I'm not only unbelievably pissed off I'm really surprised about this, H. I didn't think you suffered fools well.

"I would offer to you that it is far better to be pissed off than pissed on, Clarice. As you know I spent many years during my incarceration, and with the exception of Barney, having been fully surrounded by fools. I find them exceedingly entertaining and easily manipulated. I have been giving a great deal of thought to this plan and had been waiting for precisely this kind of opportunity to present. Rest assured for the sake of our child I intend to take full advantage."

The pair had finally arrived at the section of the garage where Clarice had parked. It was a secured area for law enforcement personnel only. Logan was leaning a cement support column waiting patiently beside Clarice's mustang. He smiled when he saw them obviously thrilled to have been asked to help Hannibal.

"How's it going, Doc! How were the accommodations?" Logan questioned in a friendly manner, "I bet you had a lot of idiots to toy with in there!"

"It was a veritable playground of stupidity, Logan."

Logan tossed his keys to Clarice. She caught them mid-air with the snap of her wrist and with the opposite hand she simultaneously tossed her keys underhand to him as well. She was calm and assured as she spoke, "I revved the hell out of the engine at the intersection to be sure they all saw me come in with the mustang so they'll swarm you as you leave."

"No worries, Clarice. I'm just looking forward to driving it. Looks like a beast!" he turned to Hannibal, "So did they treat you okay or do I have to go inside and bash a few heads in for you?"

"It was tolerable though if I'm being quite honest, aside from an exceptionally inconvenient seating arrangement, I found it entertaining in the extreme."

Logan placed a consoling hand on Hannibal's shoulder, "Dude, did those pussies put you in a restraint chair?"

Hannibal nodded, "Yes, one gentleman in particular was quite assertive. He was terrified though I gave them him no cause. They were about to cover my face with a bite shield until Clarice arrived with the cavalry."

Logan tone simmered just a note below rage, "Those chicken shit bastards! I'll bet you were pissed Clarice."

"Nothing but a bunch of stupid swinging dicks in there… I wanted to go medieval but Hannibal has a plan and the one time I wish it _did,_ this plan _doesn't_ involve maiming anyone."

"So sorry to disappoint, another time perhaps Clarice," Hannibal commented with a wry grin.

Logan opened the car door for Clarice, "Well I'm sure it's a better idea than anything we could come up with."

Now so accustomed to having the door held for her Clarice stepped in without realizing how out of character this was for Logan. "Yeah, that kinda goes without saying. Anyway thanks Logan. We'll exchange cars tomorrow."

Hannibal smiled as he watched Logan assist Clarice into the vehicle, the gesture not wasted on him. He walked to the passenger side and paused to address the younger man before getting in.

"You are improving your manners I see. I'm certain Ardelia is thrilled."

Logan checked to be certain Clarice was safely seated, closed the door and smiled, "She isn't complaining that's for sure. You were right…who would've thought opening a car door for a girl was such a big deal?"

"Every well-mannered young lady I've ever met," Hannibal returned.

"Yeah well you've travelled in better circles than I have that's for sure. Most of the girls I dated before were satisfied with a cup of coffee and cab fare home."

"Ardelia has very old-fashioned parents and is quite a well-bred woman. No doubt you will have to up your game substantially to maintain her interest. If you are as intelligent as I believe you to be you will be certain to have a conversation with her father soon."

"What kind of conversation?"

"The kind that involves a request for the young lady's hand…you will need to secure a blessing from her father before you purchase the ring. She will not wait forever. If you are that taken with her you would be doing yourself a favor to commit yourself to her. She is a fine woman. You will not soon fine another woman of her quality."

"Her father lives down south."

"Down south is a direction not an address Logan. This is something you should do in person without Ardelia's presence. Call and ask if you can visit to discuss your future plans with his daughter and if he grants you his blessing, ask Ardelia."

"Yeah…yeah I'll give him a call. Thanks Doc."

"You are entirely welcome my friend. I am certain Ardelia will more than appreciate your effort. Wear a suit and bring flowers for her mother. Her father will consider you a polite and dignified young man and as such worthy of his daughter. "

"Yeah, I hope so. You sure you guys want to go home? You could stay at the duplex. I drove past your house on the way in and it was totally swarming with reporters. There were news trucks everywhere."

"We will be fine Logan. I will be polite and as usual, Clarice will be direct."

**RUNNING THE GAUNTLET**

Clarice was curious about the conversation Hannibal had with Logan. She believed it would be best just to be direct about her curiosity, "H…you took an awfully long time to just say thanks. What were you talking to Logan about? It seemed serious."

Hannibal was equally direct though not thorough in his explanation. Key facts were left out as he explained, "I was discussing with Logan my impression that his manners were improving. He is making an effort to be thought of as a gentleman. Ardelia has indicated it is a priority and as he would like to continue their relationship he has asked for advice on occasion."

"Yeah, that's probably my fault. I told Ardelia how thoughtful and considerate you are. Compared to your level of chivalry, I guess it leaves poor Logan…lacking."

"Only if Logan allows it, he is after all quite capable of improving himself."

"Was he asking for advice now?"

"Not as such."

"But you gave him some anyway…about what?"

"I believe this is the part of the conversation that Logan refers to as 'keeping the Bro Code' therefore, Clarice I must respect Logan's privacy and retain that information."

"Don't you play that phony Bro Code bullshit on me H! That's just what guys say when they want women to stop asking questions."

"It would seem then that I have understood the parameters and have used it in the correct context," Hannibal countered as he watched Clarice's reaction and was amused at how perturbed she became.

Clarice took her frustration with Hannibal out on the upcoming curve approaching the corner with far more zeal than Logan's sedan could handle. She continued to illustrate her coltish frustration with the conversation as the momentum of the turn sent them sliding across their seats.

"Hannibal Lecter If you say Bros before Hoes you're sleeping on the couch tonight!"

Hannibal was absolutely enjoying Clarice's playful aggression and returned the teasing, "Understood…," Hannibal continued with an impish hint of a smile, "…though I have been told _that_ is rule one."

Clarice actually thought it was highly amusing that Hannibal even knew what the Bro Code was. She warned with more than a modicum of amusement, "You're pushing your luck, H."

Entertained immensely Hannibal laughed, "That is not my intention I assure you."

They pulled up in front of their home which was now buzzing with a swarm of journalists and photographers. Hannibal exited the vehicle immediately and moved to open the door for Clarice. He reached a hand and helped her exit quickly. Within seconds the assemblage realized the pair had returned home and they were surrounded by curious journalists.

Hannibal was pleasant and spoke very quietly as he pushed through the crowd, "Please if you will excuse us, I have had a bit of a trying day and would like to get some rest. As you can see my wife is pregnant and I would ask you allow her safe passage to our home."

The reporters remained at a respectful distance all calling out questions and flashing cameras. Several reporters were obviously broadcasting live.

Hannibal ignored their questions with a nod of the head and a very gracious smile and firmly led the way. Clarice kept her head down and followed his lead to the home.

As they opened the door and entered the home the tiny dog Hannibal had taken in met them at the entrance enthusiastically. The tiny French bulldog spun in circles and hopped up on its hind legs trying desperately to get attention.

"Oh shit! I forgot we have a goddamned dog!" Clarice complained as Hannibal quickly disarmed the security system and opened the door to the home. "That's an ugly little thing…it looks like a bat!"

"I think it falls into the 'it's so ugly it's cute' category don't you think? In any event the little creature will have to be walked soon I would suspect."

The pair stood in the hallway staring down at the dog. It was obvious neither had considered the animal.

Clarice really didn't want to be involved, "Why don't we just let him run around in the backyard for a bit? It's fenced in. The little guy can't get into any trouble out there."

Hannibal considered the possibility but dismissed it, "We would still be forced to keep an eye out for the little pup. There are predators that could pose a problem for a dog as tiny as this."

Clarice was not only unsympathetic she was patently unyielding.

"Hey, I didn't bring the little bat-faced bastard home with me you did so guess what? He's your dog now. Besides you can take it out the back door and still see in the dark without turning on the light."

"Yes, I suppose that would be best," Hannibal was forced to concede.

The little animal had fixated on Hannibal and was nudging and nosing at the cuff of his pant leg.

Clarice was leaning over and holding beneath her belly for support as she laughed out loud at the prospect of Hannibal walking the tiny dog, "That'll teach you not to volunteer, H. It's tough to look dignified with a bat-faced dog taking a crap while you hold onto the leash so good luck with that."

"I am so heartened to be a source of amusement for you my Love. I assure you I will remain dignified in the execution of my neighborly duties."

Hannibal was glad to see Clarice relax and laugh. He opened the back door very quietly and carried the tiny animal down the few steps into the yard. Hannibal set the animal on the grass and held the leash as he followed closely behind the dog and allowed it to roam. He was curious to see which scent in the yard the dog would track.

No doubt the little canine had picked up the scent of another animal because it rooted around under a bush for a considerable time. Soon, the dog had eliminated what waste had been stored its tiny bowels. Hannibal was pleased the animal had evacuated himself under the bush as it did not require cleanup.

_That was exceptionally discreet of you little pup. Let us hope that is your favored spot. _

Hannibal walked beside the tiny bully as it bounded up the steps and spun happily in a circle. He thought it quite endearing though he had no desire to house it for more than a day or two.

_The things one must do for neighbors._

Clarice smiled when Hannibal returned undetected from the yard.

"Quite a stealthy mission, huh H?" she teased.

"Yes Clarice the dog and I were successful and remained undetected, dignity intact I might add."

"Glad to hear it, H."

The domesticity of the exchange was interrupted by the phone.

"It's not one of the pre-programmed rings. We don't know this caller so it's most likely the mayor's office. Sure you want to go through with this H?"

She held out the phone and waited. Hannibal reached for the receiver, "Yes, my Love. It is imperative to the welfare of our child."

Hannibal answered the phone with a pleasant greeting. He listened carefully and acknowledged the information given to him. He hung up the phone and turned to Clarice.

"Okie Dokie, we are on for four o'clock tomorrow."

Clarice shook her head, "I hope you know what you're doing, H."

"Always, my Love…always."

**I hope you enjoyed this Chapter! As always review and tell me what you think then drop me a pm and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	68. Chapter 68

**Welcome back fellow Lecter Lovers! Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

_FAIR WARNING- MILD LEMON! NOTHING THAT INTENSE BUT JUST A HEAD'S UP!_

**FOR DEVYNI**

Clarice and Hannibal had moved to their master suite. Hannibal's muscles where strained from the physical exchange with the police officer so he went directly to the bathroom that he might run a bath. Clarice helped him off with his clothing knowing that his back and shoulders had thoroughly paid the price for the day's events.

She slipped the shirt from Hannibal's body and kissed his back as he pulled his arms stiffly from the sleeves. Her voice was filled with concern, "About that press conference, H...Don't you want to discuss it? How can you be so sure of yourself? Isn't there ever even one solitary moment of self-doubt?"

Hannibal shrugged and rolled his shoulders to work out the tightness, the muscles burning hot from the effort. He shook his arms and shoulders out, leaning into the door frame much like a bear rubbing against a tree; his response to his wife's worry was confident, assured.

"Doubt? No_. Never_. This may be a bit uncomfortable Clarice but it must be done. We are having a child and I would have all well when he arrives. I have long thought of this and waited for the perfect opportunity. The process began months ago with a specific end in mind. This will now go quite a long way to achieving that end."

Clarice checked the heat of the water filling the bathtub. She remained unconvinced, "You keep talking about this situation in reference to the baby and I'm just not getting it. What the hell does this press conference have to do with Nine anyway?"

Hannibal stepped out of his slacks and folded them neatly. "Nine? Are you still referring to our child with a numerical designation?"

Clarice ignored the question focusing on the bathwater, "Hop in H, the water is perfect. I'll be in the bedroom if you need me."

He stepped out of his boxers and placed them in the hamper. "Are you not joining me?"

She looked at the tub to assess whether it would be a comfortable fit for two adults. Although the master bath had been meticulously remodeled Hannibal had decided to stay true to the style of the home's architecture. The bathroom was fully tiled in glossy white marble with wispy veins of silver running throughout.

The vanity was an antique dry sink painted a glossy white that had been repurposed by cutting out the center and counter fitting a bowl with silver and white fixtures. The antique tub was original to the home and one of the main features that had attracted Hannibal to the house. It was very deep and extremely long at five and one half feet and served as an elegant focal point. Hannibal spared no expense and had seen that it was meticulously restored down to the highly detailed and polished silver clawed feet.

Clarice inhaled deeply, the comfort of the steam twisted into her nostrils heating and expanding her nasal passages as she breathed in the humid warmth. Smoky vapors rose and curled toward the ceiling and Clarice sighed as the water looked so deep and inviting.

"It really does look so relaxing and I know how sore you must be…You wouldn't mind sharing? I'll give you a nice back rub?"

"I would prefer a nice _front _rub…" he teased, getting a playful slap from Clarice for his comments, "though with you I would share gladly my Love."

Clarice slipped quickly out of her garments and reached a hand to Hannibal. He held it and guided her by the elbow to assure her steady footing. As she entered the tub and settled comfortably he took his place as well. Always the gentleman he was certain that his back remained on the side of the tub that housed the fixtures to insure her comfort and relaxation. He did not forget their earlier conversation and upon sitting sought clarification, "We were discussing a moment ago your numerical nickname for the child?"

Hannibal spun his hand in a circular motion that Clarice might turn and offer him her back. Without a word she did as she was signaled and leaned forward, hugging her knees to her chest as best her pregnancy would allow. Hannibal reached for a plush washcloth, soaped it thoroughly and began to smooth it across her back and shoulders. He kissed each area as he cleansed it.

Clarice sighed deeply responding to his touch. She was certain he would tease her about the variety of nicknames she was trying on for their child. Clarice arched her back and craned her neck in response to his touch.

"Are you distracted by my hands, Clarice? I asked you a question a moment ago."

_Question? What question? Oh…Nine! _

She stirred from the comfort of his touch, "I don't only call him Nine…I call him Little H too. I don't know…Hannibal will be great when he is older but it's too much for a baby and I haven't settled on a nickname yet…and don't distract me from the topic! What does the press conference, and all of the mayor's propaganda bullshit got to do with our baby?"

Clarice turned and realized Hannibal was leaning against the faucet. "H, take this side of the tub, your back is already stressed."

He leaned forward a bit and looked back at the fixture then back at Clarice. He was confused as to her concern, "I am your husband and as such it is my duty to care for you. I wouldn't dream of making you uncomfortable Clarice. I can handle the fixtures."

"Take this side and open your legs. I'll rest between them," she offered knowing he would not refuse.

Hannibal winked, "Why don't you open yours? I would _love _to _rest _between them."

Clarice splashed a palm full of water at him as she blushed, "You are incorrigible H! Move!"

Hannibal smiled a devilish grin, wiped a palm across his face and licked the remaining water from his lips. "I will move Clarice for your comfort not my own as I intend to lavish attention on you."

She shrugged him off playfully, "Whatever… Just move your ass over H."

Clarice lifted her legs and moved to the side of the bathtub to allow Hannibal room to switch ends with her. She then climbed over, pushed his knees apart and settled herself carefully between his legs. With a satisfied smile she rested her body against his, her head leaning back on his chest. He pressed a cheek against hers. Clarice pushed him back.

"Okay…now that I'm relaxed you can go ahead…explain all of the propaganda bullshit to me."

Chuckling at Clarice's persistence, Hannibal took the cloth and rubbed a bar of almond scented soap against the fabric. When he determined it to be well soaped, he began to smooth it across her throat, collarbone. When he reached her breasts, swirling the soapy fabric over and under, caressing each with equal attention she arched against his body, stretching out comfortably along the length of him.

The sensual nature of his movements contrary to the conversation Hannibal adeptly maneuvered both.

"The propaganda _bullshit_ to which you refer has little to do with the mayor and everything to do with our family," he continued as he gently washed her body, "I seek to limit the pervasive use of the name Hannibal the Cannibal. Not that I am offended by the moniker as such as is it is accurate. It is also obnoxious and for the sake of Devyni I shall do any and all in an attempt to dissuade or at the very least limit use of the abhorrent appellation."

"I don't care what they call you. You're the same man you were when they trapped you behind the glass and attempted to throw away the key. I don't need to defend myself to the public or seek anyone's approval and you shouldn't either. And what the hell is a Devyni?" Clarice asked as she reached back and forth to vigorously massage her husband's legs and thighs the exertion of the effort calming her.

Hannibal shifted as her touch relaxed him so much that he dropped his head back and rested it on the lip of the tub.

"Devyni… It is my response to your usage of a numerical designation for our son. It is the number nine in Lithuanian," he was not really focused on the conversation, "Mmmmm, Clarice you are distracting me."

"I'm not trying to H. I just really like touching you…I really like that nickname, too. I'll call him Dev for short. I'm still upset with you though… it seems like you want someone's approval and that's not what we're about."

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Clarice and sitting upright began to smooth the wash cloth over her swollen belly. Hannibal smiled as he felt the baby shift with his touch.

Hannibal's voice was low and soothing as he sought to reassure his wife, "Rest assured Clarice I am not seeking approval nor am I worried about the perception of others in regard to us. I am concerned with their perception as it pertains to our son. To put it bluntly Clarice who would you rather to be the father of you baby, Hannibal the Cannibal or Hannibal Lecter respected member of the community? The child will _hear _of me as the former. I would like him _recognize_ me as the latter."

Clarice turned within Hannibal's embrace, the comment touching her so deeply that she sought his lips.

Hannibal understood the connection she was making and kissed his wife very gently. It was a kiss of sensitivity and understanding, Clarice had come to the instantaneous realization that although Hannibal was comfortable with his place in the world, he wanted to make an easier path for his child. Clarice wished the same.

The kiss lasted for several minutes. Each spouse communicating to the other their wants and needs as they searched each other with their lips. This kiss was unlike any other of their marriage as it was filled with sudden understanding that they were no longer merely a pair. They were now a family. They were parents responsible for a life and this life now gave meaning to their own.

This life would define and form every decision made from this point forward. The pressing of their lips upon the other, the searching of their tongues, the tantric dance between them was now so deep, so meaningful, and so full of passion and want and need that it became a lasting and unspoken covenant between them.

This kiss was now their promise to each other that the needs of their child would supplant their own. This moment between them was so powerful that when several minutes later their lips parted it was as if a Mass had ended, so solemn and filled with love and grace that neither of them spoke.

Ten or fifteen minutes later Hannibal stood from the bath and stepped out. He toweled off quickly and grabbed his robe from the silver hook behind the door slipping into it quickly. He reached a hand for Clarice and assisted her from the bath as well. He helped towel her off and assisted with her robe, then escorted her to the bedroom. Hannibal turned the bedcovers down and helped Clarice off with her robe. She entered the bed and he covered her gently. As Hannibal walked to the other side of the bed, Clarice broke the silence.

"H…I'm worried."

Hannibal removed his robe and placed his, along with Clarice's on a chair beside the bed. Hannibal took his place beside his wife and pulled her into a gentle and loving embrace. He whispered, "Clarice there is no need."

Clarice placed her head on his chest and teased at the soft hair growing there, "It's going to be a circus. Look at the front lawn! Every local and national news affiliate is out there."

Hannibal stroked her hair gently, brushed it back from her forehead and nuzzled against it inhaling deeply as he moved his nose within it. He loved the smell of her hair, the scent of her strong within it mixing with the almond scent of their bath. His body warmed at the sensations it stirred within him but he placed the physical aside for the moment.

Hannibal wanted Clarice to agree with him, therefore he would take his time to make his plan known to her, "The press conference will be active and engaging but it is not a circus; moreover it is a trial in the court of public opinion. Tomorrow I shall take the stand."

She kissed his stomach and rubbed her hand across it. There was a distinct sadness about her voice, "So why do you want to set yourself up for this? It could go so wrong in so many ways."

Hannibal took her hand in his and kissed the pulse point on her wrist. His wish was to fortify her, "Because I have been seen in every paper and on every new broadcast as a flesh eating monster hidden in a dungeon trapped behind a mask. As it was my deeds by which the mask was placed, it must be through my deeds alone by which it can be removed. I must make every effort to do so that I may begin to remove some of the stigma associated with my past. Our child will carry my name. I would have him do so with pride."

Clarice looked up at her husband, somewhat convinced though not fully. "Do you think that might work?" she questioned with some small hope in her voice.

"If I am found to be a positive and contributing member of society it will go quite a long way to providing our son with a much more conventional childhood than we could have otherwise provided. The concept makes sense, yes?" Hannibal traced his fingertips up and down his wife's arms feeling the sudden appearance of tiny raised bumps.

_Stimulation of the pilomotor reflex…appearance of cutis anserine. Is this a reaction to my touch or the cooling of your body from the bath Clarice?_

Hannibal inhaled deeply to assess if his wife's scent to discover which of the possible motivators had been the cause of the goosebumps. He smiled when his keen senses attuned to her body, gave him the answer he hoped.

_Increase in pheromones…my touch._

Clarice continued the conversation, distracted somewhat by Hannibal's now persistent attention to her body. She chose to ignore the physical stimulation for the moment as she wanted answers to her questions.

Her voice took on a new determination, "It makes sense but it makes me nervous. Why didn't you tell me before you went out there that was what you were up to?"

Hannibal had no difficulty processing differing streams of stimuli coming in simultaneously and answered her question while attending generously to her breasts. He could feel Clarice's heart beat against his left cheek as he searched the peak of her breast. He paused each time he captured the flesh in his mouth.

"Initially I was…merely planning… on assisting our neighbor…. as I have known her…for a very long time and she has been… kind to me. The overzealous officer… provided the impetus for …the idea as his… assault painted me publicly…. in a more favorable light."

Clarice lifted his head from her breast and took a deep breath. She responded, breathless with her face flushed hot with passion, "Yeah… he was…a dick!"

"Accurate but blunt as always my Love," he joked before returning to her breast.

"We are seriously going to have to start weaning you before this baby is born, H…"

"Why Clarice...I won't mind sharing. You do have two breasts therefore I offer that you should designate one for Junior and one for Senior. As I prefer the left you can offer Junior the right…I was after all here first."

"Yeah…we'll have to talk about that cuz I really don't see that happening."

"Give it some thought Clarice…give it some thought. It would be very generous of you and that one of the infinite reasons why I find you so immensely appealing."

"I find you just as appealing, H."

"Prove it."

Clarice stripped back the covers from the bed and swung a leg over Hannibal's body. She sat up straddling him, the heat of her centered on his belly. He cupped his hands over the blossoming belly, his child moving actively within her.

"The baby is very active as of late. Soon he will be making you uncomfortable. I wonder will I go wanting when that happens."

He smiled to himself. His wife had a libido that while not exactly matching his own, was similar enough to make life quite pleasurable for both. The words, 'not tonight' were in neither of their vernacular.

"As long as you ask…I'm saying yes," she teased as she leaned toward him and captured his lips with hers.

"Clarice the only time I will not be asking is when you are actively in labor. I may be fairly well-endowed but I would not want to attempt to pleasure you when you are fully dilated. It might prove to deflate my substantial ego. Other than that and I will be most willing."

Hannibal admired his wife as she moved over his body. She was far too high on his torso for her intention to have been his entrance. She sought simply to enjoy, to forestall, and to tease a bit to heighten the experience.

In his mind he named the anatomical parts, bones and muscles as they moved and rippled along his body, in order to distract him from the stimulation. Hannibal memorized the heat of her thighs as they slipped slowly along his side. He could feel the athletic pressure of her calves and the convex curve to her malleolus she hooked her ankles just beneath the bend in his knees. He did not want an early end to the evening and her movements were beginning to drive his passion.

She noticed he was shifting his attention, "Stay with me, H."

"Clarice…I am attempting to stay but your body is driving me very far forward of you."

She slipped lower on his frame, now riding just above the hips. His body now fully responding to her rhythms, she centered herself so that his erection was slipped between her flesh. She angled so that he could not, unless she separated slightly allowing access, enter her.

Hannibal, frustrated by this position, complained, "Clarice…you are teasing me and it is not very becoming of you."

Clarice could see the flush in his face as he struggled mightily for control. Hannibal was breathing short deep inhalations in order to control the onslaught of an impending orgasm. His body pulsed with the strain as he held himself in check for her pleasure. She saw the power and seized it continuing to rock seductively against his arousal.

She whispered, "So what are you going to do about it? Arrest me?"

Clarice could feel the shudders overtaking his body each time Hannibal's sentence were chopped through his tightened lips as he inhaled when he spoke, each breath sucking at a word and driving it forward in the sentence slowly in an attempt to avoid his inevitable release.

"I will be… patient for now…Clarice…though if… you continue in this… much… past my… tolerance to… bear it… I will finish… ahead of you…leaving me… at…. least… minimally… satisfied and…you to be… left…quite… wanting."

Clarice rocked much more aggressively against his body, "You wouldn't dare."

Hannibal gasped for breath as he spoke. He grasped her hips and pressed his arousal against her stressing through the tactile pressure just how far along his body was. Hannibal could barely speak much less breathe and speak, "Though I… would not… prefer… it I… will… if forced… to it. Mind that… you play… fair my… Love and…slow down… so that… we may… both… enjoy… this."

Clarice smiled, "Okay, you don't have to make idol threats."

Clarice leaned over and began to kiss Hannibal. He tugged and her lips with his teeth raising his torso toward her again and again the repetition causing a good deal of friction against Clarice's sensitive flesh. Her movements slowed and became much more specific, slipping over his member up and down, gliding along his firm flesh now slick from contact with her heightened sexuality.

Hannibal's heart began to sink deeper in his body and surge forward in his chest, thumping against his sternum as if attempting to leap free. He was still lifting for her lips, now alternating with bites to her throat. Clarice began to arch her back with the heat of her own arousal. This position now fully offered her breasts to her husband. With the next crunch upward he captured her left breast in his mouth and latched to it.

Clarice gasped and clutched at his head as his teeth gently sunk into the flesh. He held the bud firmly between his teeth increasing the pressure just enough to cause slight pain though not enough to make her pull from him. Listening intently whenever they made love Hannibal had discovered Clarice was intensely stimulated by certain discomforts. She groaned low at the pressure, the sound so deep that it rumbled up softly from the back of her throat. Hannibal's breath hitched and his belly burned from the sound of it, his desire so intense to fill her.

"Clarice…Please…now!"

Hannibal clutched at her buttocks and shook to hold back his release. As he drove forward he took her breast once more, again he bit down and holding his breath, he listened.

Again, she groaned, this sound so low, primal, animalistic and raw that she nearly drove Hannibal to his end. He crushed his eyelids closed, exhaled slowly and ceased all movement in order to rein in the tumult of his threatening rapture. Several quick uptakes of breath and his fingers kneading Clarice's flesh and he was able to temporarily tremble back his ecstasy.

"Clarice…Let me in."

She leaned over and whispered huskily in his ear, "What are you waiting for H?"

**THE PRESS CONFERENCE **

Hannibal wore a new formal black Gucci suit to the press conference. Clarice wore a beautiful maternity version of a classic black dress. The pair looked elegant and understated. The mayor and the police chief sent an armed escort to help Hannibal and Clarice maneuver through the gauntlet of reporters fighting to have a question answered or a photo op.

The pair was rushed into a waiting limo, the mayor and police chief already inside.

The mayor spoke first, "Doctor Lecter…Hannibal? May I call you Hannibal?"

Clarice interrupted, "Doctor Lecter if you don't mind."

The mayor continued, "Doctor Lecter…thank you for doing this. The young police officer and his wife are already at city hall. That's where the press conference will be held. I will make a statement as well as the chief, if you would like to make a statement you may and then the officer in question will present his apology. I believe your neighbors will also be in attendance. We will take a few questions and it will be over before you know it. Do you have any questions, Sir?"

All eyes were on Hannibal, especially the police chief. Hannibal was his usual charming self. He flashed a smile, "No questions Mr. Mayor and there is no reason to thank me. I am more than happy to oblige."

The door to the limo swung open and the mayor and police chief exited quickly, and waited for Hannibal to exit. Hannibal stepped out and reached his hand out to Clarice. She took his hand and stepped out of the vehicle.

Clarice smoothed her dress and exchanged a quick glance with Hannibal. Knowing every camera was trained on them, Hannibal, still holding her hand lifted it to his face and kissed it gently.

"Would you do me the honor of taking my arm Clarice? I would like to keep you close."

"H…I don't know about this…"

"We are doing this for Devyni, Clarice…for Devyni."

**Don't forget to read and review. If you have any questions you want to ask either Hannibal or Clarice at the press conference pm me and I'll try to fit them in**_**We could have some fun!**_

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	69. Chapter 69

**LITTLE LECTER—THANKS FOR THE FICS AND THE PICS! **

**THERE'S PLENTY THERE FOR US TO SHARE! TWIN!**

**THE PRESS CONFERENCE: part one**

Clarice casually hooked her arm through Hannibal's and grasped the inside of his forearm holding him close. She elegantly moved beside him keeping fairly in step. He glanced down for just a moment to assess a comfortable gait in relation to his wife's and moved to adjust the length of each step to mirror hers. A flash of recognition and an amused, almost impish smirk crossed his face.

"I do not recognize your shoes Clarice...Gucci?" He whispered quietly in her ear leaning much closer than her hearing dictated.

"I'm a big girl now, H. I am capable of picking out my own wardrobe…shoes included. And for your information they're Prada."

"Well I must say they have caught up nicely with your bag, though I had no doubt they would."

Clarice swatted him playfully with the purse she clutched but was quickly taken aback when a crush of photographers surged forward. Flashes from the many cameras illuminated the darkened sky as the ravenous journalists fought each climbing over another to capture the intimate moment.

"Doctor Lecter! Doctor Lecter!" the reporters called out as if one voice they pressed forward en masse.

The troopers assigned to security were overmatched in comparison to the zeal of the crowd. They quickly moved to protect by extending their arms to form a wall in a valiant effort to restrain the bodies that pressed forward. The relentless surge was such that the officers on duty could not prevent the mainstream and tabloid journalists, much less the aggressive paparazzi from physically accessing the couple.

Their protectors were forced back and found just to the rear of the building, a corner where the brickwork of an addition caused a ninety degree angle thus forming a man-made barrier. The officers directed the couple to the safety of the architectural element. The officers stood their ground but were almost fully backed against Clarice and Hannibal. Additional officers moved in to hurry the questioning crowd back away from the pair.

Hannibal seemed unaffected by the potential dangers. He had assessed the intention of those in attendance and had found excitement and curiosity but no outward hostility. Feeling quite safe despite the confusion he moved closer to Clarice and with an air of seduction very slowly ran his hand beneath the drape of her hair and brushed aside an errant strand. He kissed her gently as he swept it back over her ear.

Hannibal leaned into his adoring wife and nuzzled his nose tickling and nibbling his way along the skin of her neck reaching back beneath her hair seeking her ear. His breath hot compared to the crisp winter air his lips sought her earlobe. He took it in his mouth and nibbled on it, whispering huskily, "Thank God we're alone…wanna have some _fun_?"

Clarice was amused at Hannibal's faux southern drawl, his constant effort to tease her about her lesser station at birth. She pushed him back in false display of rejection and looking around shook her head at the absurdity of the event. "This is crazy! It's like you're a goddamned rock star or something!"

"Or something," Hannibal joked.

The chief of police addressed the crowd, "Okay people we've got a potentially dangerous situation here. Everyone with a press pass or some form of journalistic credentials line up to have your identification verified and we will allow you into the building a few at a time. If you are not here by invitation please leave the area."

The chief craned his neck to search over the tops of heads for the crew escorting Hannibal and Clarice. When his eyes fell upon them, he called out to the security detail, "Would the officers escorting Dr. and Mrs. Lecter please bring them through the side entrance so that we can secure their safety and move this process along."

The officers followed orders and immediately began to herd the couple around the outside of the building away from the crowd.

Clarice looked to Hannibal, "Jesus…and you wanted this? It's like a feeding frenzy for Christ's sake."

Hannibal placed an arm around her waist and pulled her close to assure they would not be separated in the event some members of the press breached security. His conversation was lighthearted as he focused her attention on the amusement of the situation instead the trepidation she was experiencing.

"You have no one to blame but yourself, Clarice. It was after all your assault to my person that initiated the premature activity. Perhaps you should refrain from beating me with your accessories until we return home. Lord only knows what the caption under_ that_ photograph with read."

"It will read, '_Hannibal the Cannibal is beaten with a Prada purse moments before his hormonal wife stabs him to death with his own Harpy. Thank God her shoes were a fine match!_' That's how it's going to read."

As they followed the lead of the security team Clarice reached around Hannibal's body, under his suit jacket and slipped her hand into the back pocket of his slacks. She rested her hand on the curve of his backside.

Hannibal was touched by the affection and kissed the top of her head. He laughed aloud heartily over her comments as he found her acerbic humor to be both charming and amusing, "You cannot stab me with my Harpy. You don't have it. I do."

She stopped him in his tracks and grasped his forearm looking directly into his deep set maroon eyes with absolute incredulity, "No. Tell me you do not have that thing with you!"

"Yes I do…why wouldn't I?"

"Why do you insist so much on tempting fate?"

"I do not _tempt _fate Clarice…I _dare_ it!" He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek as they waited patiently to enter the building.

Again the flashes illuminated the night sky. Clarice blinked back the glare and held a hand briefly over her face to block the brightness until her eyes could readjust. She was not comfortable and was very concerned.

"I've just got a bad feeling about this, too many variables that we can't control."

Though her relaxed physicality belied her anxiety, her emotions were well known to her husband.

"The beauty of life is that it is full of variables, a virtual tornado of activity. It is riding the wave of that utter confusion and chaos that makes it worth living. It is in the rush of adrenalin, the tripping of the heart that truly transcends our existence. It is how we approach the height of our God."

"It always amuses me when you mention God."

"Why is that I wonder, Clarice?" Hannibal tilted his head slightly, curious of her answer.

"Maybe it's because you have spent most of your life at war with him."

"That is precisely the point, Clarice. One cannot be at war with something they do not acknowledge exists. It may not be an anthropomorphic being. It may be the fabric of knowledge and power that wraps itself within and throughout our existence. I cannot pretend to grasp the concept. Though I have long felt his absence I had not felt his presence until you shared your life with me."

"That's why I love you H…you are not what anyone expects. You are much more than anyone knows."

Hannibal kissed her hand, "As are you Clarice."

The troopers were finally able to clear the area and move the journalists into the building. Hannibal and Clarice followed to the alternate entrance

Clarice carried herself with grace, and elegance.

Hannibal was struck by the quiet dignity with which she carried herself. As they reached the building's entrance he stopped momentarily, embraced her and whispered, "I have never been more proud to have a woman on my arm than I am at this moment Clarice. I had no right to expect you by my side but I do want you to know how much it means to me that you are. In my eyes and in my heart you have no equal."

Clarice did not reply verbally. The back of her hand stroking his cheek and the look of love in her eyes said all.

Hannibal was now ready. There was anticipation, as if he were cresting the highest peak on a roller coaster and joyfully preparing for the drop. He reached for the door.

"Okie Dokie Clarice, hold on…here we go!"

**THE GATE CRASHERS**

Two men had been waiting outside and had heard where the pair would enter the building. They had moved quickly through the crowd. They had visited the building earlier in the day to familiarize themselves with the layout. They walked past the chief of police who nodded a respectful hello to the taller of the two men. The pair strode with purpose through the main entrance intent on intercepting Hannibal at the doorway on the side of the building.

"What do you think he will do?" the smaller man questioned nervously.

The taller man shrugged his shoulders, "I don't think he'll be upset to see me…as for you? I don't know. I guess the only way to find out is to approach him and see. There is one fairly strong indicator."

"And what would that be?"

"I'm on his annual Christmas card list…are you?"

**OPENING THE DOOR**

Hannibal smiled and moved to open the door for his wife and was obviously very excited to move the process forward. He believed this to be his first fatherly task and was determined that it be a success.

As soon as his hand pressed the handle to open the door Hannibal's eyes widened and his body froze completely. He did not move the large door open, instead he leaned in very slightly and inhaled deeply. As his nostrils flared, Clarice watched him very carefully. She recognized the intense flash of danger in his eyes and she immediately moved her hand along his torso feeling for the Harpy. Hannibal quickly grasped her hand.

"There is no need, Clarice…I am fine."

"I know that look H and it isn't the 'I'm fine' look. It's the 'I'm going to rip someone's heart out' look. Where is it? I want it H and I want it now!"

Hannibal reached up the sleeve of his jacket into the neatly folded material of his French cuffed shirt and slipped the Harpy from safety. He passed the knife to Clarice making absolutely no effort to disguise what he was giving her. She tucked it safely in her Prada bag. The officers guarding him were shocked to see him pass the weapon but made drew no attention to it deeming it no longer a threat.

One of the officers stepped forward. "Are you aware of a threat Doctor Lecter? If there is something you're worried about I'll be first through the door."

Hannibal's demeanor quieted, "No thank you officer, I am quite fine. I can handle this quite well on my own."

Hannibal pushed the door open and swung it widely, "After you my Love," he spoke quietly, "There is no need for worry."

Clarice entered the hallway and saw no one. "There's no one here, H."

"They will be along presently," Hannibal directed as he looked down the long hallway, "The scent is moving toward us and is quite distinctive."

Clarice watched the long corridor with anticipation.

Hannibal stood in the center of the hallway, anticipating, unmoving. As the larger man turned the corner he jumped back, surprised to see Hannibal had obviously already detected his presence. The smaller man rounded the corner as well though with much less authority than his station would indicate.

"Ex- Special Agent Graham, what a pleasant surprise. I see you brought your small pet along."

A shudder ran through Will Graham's body, as if Death had passed him by. "Good afternoon Doctor Lecter. It's a pleasure to see you. I'm certain you remember Doctor Bloom."

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**Until the next Chapter my wonderful fan fic friends!**

**LH**


	70. Chapter 70

**WELCOME BACK! **

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**THE MEETING**

Hannibal spoke through clenched teeth, his hands balled tightly at his sides, "Doctor Bloom, I have heard that you will be speaking at Quantico this week? I see you are still hiding behind the mantle of the FBI for your credibility. Are you still inclined to seek approval from the sycophantic student body at the academy?"

Clarice nudged him taking mock offense to the comment, "Hey! Watch it H or it's the sofa for you tonight!"

Hannibal raised a penitent hand, "Apologies my Love, present company excepted of course. Clarice, allow me to present Ex- Special Agent Will Graham and Dr. Alan Bloom. Gentlemen may I present my lovely wife, Clarice."

Both Bloom and Graham extended their hands to Clarice. She was dignified and self-assured appearing quite confident and comfortable with Hannibal. Both men took note of the affection displayed between the pair and were surprised by it. Graham less so than Bloom, perhaps because he had always believed Hannibal to show, loyalty at the very least and thought that he and Lecter were at one time, _almost_ friends…almost.

The police escorts were confused by Lecter's initial aggression toward Bloom as it seemed unfounded. The senior officer was now quite relieved to recall that Clarice had disarmed him. He stepped forward, "Doctor Lecter? Would you like us to clear this hallway and allow you to pass or is this a conversation you wish to continue?"

Hannibal inclined his head slightly as he considered the question and in a moment quickly dismissed it. The officers shifted nervously and reminded him of hyenas watching slack jawed while milling around waiting for the lion to finish with the kill.

"No, thank you officer…Dr. Bloom and I were colleagues for a time thus it would be impolite of me to dismiss him out of turn. Though the professional courtesy he extended me during my incarceration was far from courteous or even civilized for that matter I will concede briefly. Please allow us a moment."

The officer nodded and signaled his group to move several feet away to allow a measure of privacy.

Bloom stood quietly and watched Hannibal very closely. He was attempting to determine whether or not he was indeed 'cured' of his past societal deviations. It wasn't an assignment, merely his own intellectual curiosity though he did suggest to the chief of police that it might be safer to bring Lecter in through an alternate entrance.

Bloom wanted evidence of the change. He also wanted Will Graham's opinion or more pointedly his intuitive evaluation of Lecter's demeanor. Graham knew that he had no actual ability to assess Lecter. It had been no more than a fluke that he sensed Lecter's involvement in the Chesapeake Ripper case at all. Graham was certain now that the good doctor was on his game Hannibal would not allow the probing and would thus be a blank canvas to him. Graham had his own reasons to see Lecter therefore he accepted the task. Will too, had an agenda of his own.

Of course Hannibal was more than aware of the feeble mind games and was more than alert to the mental check list Bloom was creating. Hannibal found the process as amusing and entertaining as he did enraging.

_Conducting a visual assessment before consulting the DSM Doctor Bloom? Tedious…very tedious._

Bloom considered Hannibal as he spoke, knowing his presence was unwelcome and concerned not to anger the man, "Doctor Lecter I had hoped after all these years, and seeing how well you are doing in your personal life, that you might be amenable to speaking with me."

"Why _would_ I…so that you might _quantify_ me, Doctor?" Hannibal snarled. He could feel the anxiety begin to simmer within him spreading out and burning along his nerve endings like a pat of butter sizzling on an overheated griddle.

Hannibal stepped closer to Bloom and leaned forward, the angle of his body nearly unnatural in its incline. Danger loomed in the closing space between them.

Clarice noticed the climbing tension and reached for her husband's shoulders. Not at all intimidated by his distinctly predatory physicality she quickly clutched his body with both hands hoping to help him corral his growing rage.

Will Graham was amazed at how quickly Clarice moved toward her obviously agitated husband. It was very apparent that she had absolutely no fear of his physical retribution or his highly charged state.

_So comfortable around him…you know what he's capable of and you show no fear. _

Hannibal rolled his shoulders backward and shrugged her off as if slipping his arms quickly from a straightjacket. As he surged forward once again establishing the aggressive stance, again Clarice reached out to Hannibal.

Graham and Bloom noticed that she quickly assessed and adapted to his mood. Now, instead of grabbing his body, she placed a hand on his back very gently between his shoulder blades and rubbed her palm in a circular fashion so that he was aware of the presence. She left the hand in place.

At the moment he sensed her touch Hannibal inhaled very deeply and exhaled very slowly, taking several very controlled breaths. His body shook with the attempt to contain his fury. Hannibal calmed.

Graham noticed the immediate shift in Hannibal's demeanor. The rage had quelled slightly. In direct response to her touch, Hannibal Lecter was attempting to leash his predatory responses.

_Her presence calms him…she has some control over his instinctual and predatory urges._

Though her touch sedated him and his body language was slightly less on the offensive there remained an unmistakably threatening timbre to his voice.

"_Speak _with _you_? For what purpose…so that you may attempt to assess my mental state, _Alan_? Are you writing another one of your _'I have changed the name of the patient to protect his/her privacy'_ articles? As if a single word you ever wrote discussing my pathology was at all disguised or veiled to even the most casual of observers."

"I…I wasn't writing anything I simply wanted to talk to you," Bloom stammered. Knowing now that Hannibal connected him with Chilton, he was terrified. He wondered to what degree the association was understood. "It was really nothing more than that."

Graham was intelligent enough to know when to stay out of a conversation therefore he stepped back and chose to observe the dynamic of the group. Hannibal had always interested him but Hannibal's massive intellect would always remain far beyond his true understanding. He was much too sophisticated and cunning to read. Seeing the husband and wife dynamic in play, Clarice now intrigued him.

_You left everything behind for him…everything you worked for …you obviously love him. Does he love you in return? Is he capable of that level of emotional attachment?_

Clarice's worry was for her husband though in her periphery, she noticed Graham's attention. Hannibal was highly agitated and that was cause for her concern. He was not fully healed from his abduction and his body was responding to the stress, his heart thundering so deeply that Clarice could feel the pounding of it through his back.

Hannibal could feel it as well and its intrusive presence fed the anger within. He resented Bloom not only because Bloom considered him a rival but because the much lesser man served as a consultant to the FBI and had inserted himself into Hannibal's incarceration. Hannibal believed Bloom provided techniques to Chilton that had been not only demeaning, but clinically unnecessary based on the nature of Hannibal's crimes.

There was no diploma hanging on Chilton's wall. He did not know enough to be as dangerous alone but he knew enough follow the very specific directions given him and was devious enough to add some of his own sadistic tendencies. That combination made him exceedingly dangerous to Hannibal. Because of Bloom's involvement it had been an extremely long and arduous eight years.

Now, looking at Bloom directly in front of him Hannibal was emotionally returned to that sense of isolation and that feeling of dread. It affected him tremendously. It felt to him as though someone were continually punching him in the center of his chest driving their fist into the cavernous opening. The feeling of hopelessness reminded him of his youth; of the feelings he had living in his family's ancestral castle, no longer as the heir to the magnificent home and its grounds, but as an orphan with nothing more than the clothing on his back to call his own.

_Nothing happened to me…I happened._

Every day of his life had felt like a sledgehammer beating him. His pain molded him like molten iron shaping his mettle…forging him as if from the heat and the hammer. Hannibal Lecter was not the product of victimization. He had emerged the product of anvil and iron strengthened from the coals of misfortune. Now, directly in front of him, Bloom was symbolic of that misfortune and he was the focus of Hannibal's wrath.

_I put your face on every bully I ever hurt._

Hannibal's objective was to attack, to unnerve. He growled low and sinister, "Is that all? Just talk? Haven't you got another blood pressure cuff you wish to attach to my genitals as you no doubt advised Chilton? He didn't have the adequate training or the education to devise the tests I was forced to undergo. You really should have asked him for the professional courtesy of leaving your name out of my_ treatments_ as he was a notorious name dropper. There had been no sexual component to my so called crimes. Did you both truly believe that projecting violent images would arouse me or were you just curious as to my physical attributes? You could have participated in one of the endless strip searches Chilton requested or simply stolen a glance in the men's room. It might have saved me some small measure of discomfort."

Bloom had not realized Hannibal connected him so thoroughly to the treatment protocol. He was surprised his collaboration with Chilton was known at all. His heart pounded, so intrinsic his fear that a bulging vein in his forehead began to throb uncontrollably.

Hannibal noticed the pulsing source of Bloom's discomfort immediately and it delighted him. Smelling the proverbial blood in the water he continued to attack verbally using his words to chew at Bloom much like a lion capturing the hips of an antelope. Hannibal's insightful and incisive words would soon rip into Bloom viciously doing more damaged than the gnashing of teeth or the tearing of claws ever could.

"Oh, I do apologize; please allow me to beg your forgiveness I should not have brought up _Freddie_. After all we mustn't speak ill of the _dead_." Hannibal's eyes glowed in the low light of the hallway his voice was low and raspy, "You wanted to speak to me? By what means did you intend to achieve that end? By trapping me in a corridor…have you not mastered the art of dialing a telephone?"

Bloom felt suddenly ashamed and lowered his eyes. Sheepishly he mustered an answer, "I didn't think you would speak to me."

Hannibal glowered, "You might have at least had offered me the courtesy of the attempt. Ambushing me in the presence of my wife hasn't helped your cause."

"I simply wanted some insight…" Bloom's voice trailed off. He was overmatched and it was disconcerting.

Hannibal pounced at the flash of weakness in Bloom's eyes.

"You are seeking insight? Let me offer you a small measure of such. An intelligent man knows his weaknesses. I am well aware that when pressed by over-rated academics, I respond with…shall we say savagery. My wife understands this weakness and adapts to it by being…proactive. What are your weaknesses _Alan_? Do not either flatter yourself or insult me by pointing that low powered excuse for visual or mental acuity in my direction. Your perception is as dim as a snuffed candle, a hint of afterglow on the wick perhaps though not enough to be of any use at all. Regarding your psychological or therapeutic intuition, I can assure you Will is far more capable in that regard." Hannibal placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "If you wish to speak with me Will, I will meet with you but you must leave your pet at home. I find his nosing about to be vulgar and intrusive."

"I'll call you Doctor…I'd like to speak to you for…" Will's voice trailed off.

Hannibal offered, "Closure…Will?"

A nod of assent confirmed, "Yeah…closure."

Hannibal took his wife's arm and slipped it through his, "You may speak with Special Agent Ardelia Mapp. She will advise you how you may contact my wife. I will defer to Clarice in that regard."

"Thank you Doctor Lecter." Graham shook Hannibal's hand and nodded an acknowledgement to Clarice, "It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Lecter."

"It was nice to meet you as well, Mr. Graham."

Will was shocked at the relationship between Hannibal and Clarice. She obviously held tremendous sway over him. Even though Hannibal shrugged her off she continued to move toward him and her touch had an obvious calming effect. Will had no doubt that had Clarice not been present the situation may have escalated uncontrollably.

"You are most welcome Will," Hannibal turned to Bloom and extended a hand to him. "My best wishes to you, Doctor. I will only ask once that you please do me the courtesy of leaving my life and my experiences out of your research. I have a family to consider now and their safety and comfort are my only concern."

Bloom was thrilled that Hannibal acknowledged him with the handshake, "Yes, of course. I would never without your permission."

"That would certainly be a welcomed first."

Hannibal stepped forward, guiding Clarice, "Come my Love…The mayor waits."

The pair excused themselves, leaving Graham and Bloom standing in the center of the hallway, watching them.

Graham waited a very long time before he moved the chair to reach for the object. He needed to be certain not only that Lecter could not hear him but also that he could not smell him as he would certainly detect the change in levels as the scent moved upward toward the ceiling.

Hannibal and Clarice followed two large state police officers into the large auditorium and stopped just steps behind the mayor and police chief. Clarice, ever the agent, searched the crowd for possible threats and quickly located all of the emergency exits. She was pleased to see that the mayor and police chief had centered themselves at the table.

As the pair moved away from the officers Clarice watched Hannibal. His features were impassive. They had remained silent since leaving Graham and Bloom. Clarice was curious and wanted to ask Hannibal a question, though she already was fairly certain of the outcome.

"So, I'm sure I needn't ask but… what the hell, H…you saw it right?"

"The small camera mounted with duct tape to the side of the exit sign…yes of course I saw it. Another blunt little tool they wish to use to dissect me."

"I get Bloom…he always had an obsession with you but why Graham. I would think he'd had about enough of you by now."

"Will and I were…friendly… in a sort of clinical setting. He has questions and I am the only one with the answers he needs."

"What kind of questions?"

"He wants to know why I kept trying to kill him."

"Why did you keep trying to ki…wait a minute!"

"Yes Clarice…you have the answer. I can see it in your eyes."

"If you had really wanted to kill him…he would be…"

"Dead, Clarice."

The moment of clarity was interrupted by the rather obtrusive physical presence of the mayor.

The portly official moved between the couple and draped his heavy, sweaty arms over each of their shoulders.

Hannibal stiffened, "While I do not personally find offense in your familiar contact I will take offense for my wife. Please remove your body from her person."

The mayor took his arms, backed off and brushed his hands against his chest, "My apologies, Doctor Lecter…I didn't mean to offend you…it's just really great of you to help us out with this freaking nightmare of a public relations debacle. You had every right to drag us all over the coals for the behavior of that officer. Please, take your seats and relax. We'll make this as painless as possible."

The portly and perspiring politician waved a hand and gestured for the pair to be seated to left of his placement at the table. The chief would be to the mayor's right and the police officer and his new wife were seated to the right of the police chief. Hannibal's neighbor was in a wheelchair at the end of the table closest to Clarice. She was pleased he would be sitting beside her as she didn't want to be forced to make small talk. At least she liked the old gentleman and could talk to him about when he wanted his little dog back.

Instead of taking his seat Hannibal took Clarice's hand and walked directly to the end of the table to the police officer in question and his wife. Hannibal extended his hand to the man.

Initially the officer hesitated but Hannibal left his hand where he offered it and waited, a kind smile crossed his face. Officer Peterson appeared stunned by the gesture. He took Hannibal's hand at the prodding of his wife. She had initiated the response with a firm nudge to his ribs eliciting return of the handshake.

"Officer Peterson, we have already met though we have not been formally introduced. I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter and allow me to present my wife, Clarice."

The officer released Hannibal's hand and extended his to Clarice. "I'm pleased to meet you both. My name is Jeffrey Peterson and his is my wife Angela."

Hannibal reached for her hand and kissed it gently. "I am honored, Mrs. Peterson."

The young bride blushed, "Please…Angela. I'm happy to meet you both."

"If you will do me the honor as well, please call me Hannibal."

Clarice nodded an acknowledgment, "Hi Angela."

"Hi Clarice, I have to tell you…the pair of you have been all over the news and …your love story…it absolutely fascinates me. I think it's so…romantic."

"Thanks Angela, H is really the romantic one. I hear the two of you are just married as well?"

"Yes and to tell you both the truth, when I saw what my husband did to Doctor…to Hannibal…well it was playing out on the news long before I could talk to him and I just assumed he was going to lose his job."

Officer Peterson spoke up, "I did lose my job. They had already asked for my badge and my gun. I was cleaning out my locker when they called me back in."

Peterson walked around the table to be closer to Hannibal. He extended his hand again. "Doctor Lecter I don't know how to thank you. I must have lost my mind. I just saw you and you had that scary ass knife and I was terrified. I jumped to conclusions and I panicked! If you hadn't have gone to bat for me…We would have lost our home and everything. I'm so sorry for what I did and I'll man up and say it in front of everyone."

Hannibal tightened his grip on the young officer's hand. He was heartened by the sincerity of the apology. "There is no need for you to be publicly shamed Officer. I appreciate your penitence and accept you apology. The words need not be expressed again. We are both men of honor and we have settled our differences privately. There is nothing more that need be said. I will make that clear to all in attendance. You needn't worry any longer."

The immediate relief from Peterson was clearly visible. He shook Hannibal's hand and pulled him in for a macho, back thumping embrace. Hannibal thought that Peterson reminded him a little of Logan and the visual in his mind made him smile.

The moment the officer hugged Hannibal the flashes began to strobe and questions were being called out across the room. The mayor and police chief took their seats. Hannibal, noticing the assemblage nodded an acknowledgement to Angela, slapped Peterson heartily on the back and moved quickly to his seat. The mayor addressed the throng of reporters.

"Hello Ladies and Gentleman, we will open this with statements from myself, the police chief, and if he would like to, Doctor Lecter himself. We will then hear from the officer involved in the situation and we will close with a few questions.

Let me begin by saying that the incident in front of Doctor Lecter's home stemmed from an attempted robbery of Doctor Lecter's neighbors as they walked their dog. The woman in question was attacked and had been dragged in an attempt to steal her purse. She was strangled and her airway was severely compromised. Had Doctor Lecter not interceded there is no doubt she would have succumbed to her injuries before the ambulance would had arrived.

Let me stress the fact that Doctor Lecter was in no way an accomplice, nor was he even aware that a crime had been committed when he exited his home. The only information given to him was that his neighbor was injured. He had no way of knowing how or the extent of the injury. He retrieved medical supplies and was able to perform an emergency tracheotomy. Doctor Lecter is a hero for his actions and I want to be certain that everyone understands the tone of this press conference. I want no questions asked of Doctor Lecter that are not directly associated with this particular case ladies and gentlemen. That's all I have. The police chief would like to make a statement."

The police chief stood and cleared his throat. It was his officer that caused the situation and he was frankly pretty put out about the entire situation. It was a lose/lose for him either way.

"Okay we've all seen the tapes both from the news feeds and a direct feed from the Lecter security camera system so we are aware of what went on. I'm not going to attempt to justify the situation. It is what it is. Doctor Lecter has magnanimously asked that no charges or disciplinary action be taken against the officer in question, Patrolman Jeffrey Peterson. I am going to honor Doctor Lecter's wishes although my department will review all training and procedures to ascertain whether steps can be made to improve our delivery of service as we protect and serve our population. Now if Doctor Lecter would like to make a statement…"

Hannibal stood, reached out and touched Clarice on her shoulder for support. He moved to the podium alone. Clarice, without being asked to stood and moved to his side in a show of love and spousal unity. She kissed him on his cheek and whispered in his ear, "Okay, H…it's your party! Go get 'um."

Hannibal placed his hands on the podium leaned forward and smiled.

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter my faithful friends!**

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**Until the next chapter my friends!**

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	71. Chapter 71

**Special thanks to my fan fic friends who contributed questions to the press conference! I believe I fit most of them in! Enjoy!**

**THE PRESS CONFERENCE: QUESTIONS ANSWERED**

Hannibal leaned on the rostrum and took a deep breath before speaking.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My remarks will be brief. Let me begin by saying Officer Peterson and I have discussed yesterday's misunderstanding at length. Pleasantries were exchanged and all is well. There is no need for the conversation to be repeated as it is a private matter between men of good will. Although this situation has played out in a very public forum the officer's heartfelt regrets will not be made as such.

Before I turn this back to the mayor please allow me the indulgence of thanking my wife, Clarice and Officer Peterson's wife Angela for their love and support. It has been a difficult twenty-four hours for all concerned. The support of our spouses has proven invaluable. Thank you."

Hannibal turned from the podium, reached for Clarice and escorted her to their seats. The seating placements had been fitted with a microphone fixed to the table in front of each participant. Instead of utilizing the microphone available at his seat the mayor, enjoying the limelight returned to the podium. He waved, hand signaling someone in the audience to move forward. There was an attractive young girl, obviously a representative from the mayor's office with a microphone. She walked nervously to the front of the auditorium and stood just to the right of the stage.

"We will now take questions. The intern with the microphone will come to you so if you have a question, raise your hand. You were briefed in the memo sent to your respective employers so remember the ground rules people. If you ask a question that is off limits or out of bounds, you will be denied further questions. Doctor Lecter and his wife are very private people but have generously agreed to this so you can mark my words people…if I hear the 'C' word…you're outta here!"

Clarice knitted her eyebrows together in confusion and turned to Hannibal, "The 'C' word?"

Hannibal flashed his small white teeth with a Cheshire cat grin, "Cannibalism…Clarice."

"Ohhh…_That_ 'C' word," she smiled rolling her eye to accent the sarcasm.

A reporter in the front row stood and the young girl with the microphone hurried over, "My question is for Officer Peterson, Officer what did you think when you saw Doctor Lecter leaning over the woman with that knife?"

Peterson's face was pouring with sweat, "I don't know…it was all a blur. Doctor Lecter tried to tell me that he was helping her…I don't know…I was terrified… I have no excuses."

Hannibal leaned into his microphone. He didn't want the officer to be grilled endlessly as that would defeat his purpose. He spoke very clearly and gently.

"Let me expedite this process, ladies and gentleman. We are all aware of my past. Keeping that in mind Officer Peterson is a victim in this situation as well. I had a knife in my hand and although I did not brandish it in a threatening way, when one considers my history with that knife, the perception may be that the blade becomes less a tool and more a weapon. That image, combined with the lurid stories associated with my so-called crimes can be quite terrifying and more than a little intimidating."

A tall, thin woman in the second row stood and again the girl with the microphone hurried across the room. Her question was direct and one that Hannibal had hoped would come up.

"Does that perception anger you in any way, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal softened his voice, certain that it would be smooth and non-threatening, "No, I haven't the right to be angry at the situation. Nor do I have the right to be indignant if someone reacts with trepidation to that sight. It is their perception. It is their reality. It is my responsibility to live a life that changes that perception. It is my responsibility to work to earn trust."

A hand in the back went up sending the young intern jogging to the rear of the auditorium.

The questioning woman was rather large and breathed heavily from the effort of standing, "Do you think that will be a quick process?" she asked as she reached for her seat.

"I understand that will take time. I am more than willing to accept that protracted effort as a consequence of my past and, for the sake of my wife and my unborn child I will work very hard prove that fact to all of you."

Another hand meant another quick jog for the young girl. "Hello Doctor Lecter…your wife…Clarice was a former FBI agent?"

"Yes, she was an agent. That is correct."

"How'd you land her if you don't mind me asking?"

"I am a fortunate man. She is quite exceptional in that she saw past my situation and judged me based on our interactions and not on how I am perceived by others. She is quite intuitive and intelligent. In our relationship, Clarice is the seat of power. We are fortunate. She and I have a very special relationship."

"And Clarice is pregnant? With your child?"

"Don't even go there!" Clarice interrupted.

Hannibal leaned slightly forward, "Yes, I am indeed the father and the baby is due in April."

The man continued, "Are you looking forward to fatherhood Sir? Will you be planning more children?"

Hannibal didn't shift his eyes toward Clarice but he could feel her eyes upon him. Hannibal smiled widely and spoke very clearly, "I am looking forward to fatherhood very much and if given my way, my lovely wife will give birth to several children. I have decided that I would like a rather large family. She may have a different response however. We have not had an opportunity to discuss the subject."

Clarice leaned into the microphone, "Why don't we take this one baby at a time, H…okay?"

Hannibal laughed, "Yes of course, Clarice. Still…there would be lots of love to go around… big family…brothers and sisters for Junior."

"One baby at a time, H!" she teased.

The man with the question pursued the topic, "Junior…is it a boy Doctor?"

Hannibal smiled proudly, "Yes, we are indeed expecting a son."

Flashes went off as Hannibal leaned over and kissed Clarice. She returned the kiss momentarily, though when Hannibal pursued her, she pushed him back playfully. "There's a time and a place, H."

A woman standing off to the side away from the group raised her hand and called for the microphone. When the intern obliged she questioned, "Doctor Lecter, how do you intend to support your family? Would you ever consider returning to medicine? No doubt you would be an asset to any hospital or clinic?"

"I have no desire to return to medicine though if I did…the background check might prove…troublesome."

The audience laughed collectively at Hannibal's self-deprecating humor.

"As to supporting my wife and any future children, I am the only surviving member of my family, thus the only heir. Both my parents were killed during the Second World War. Years later I was able to recover the bulk of the financial assets and several of their properties and funds reverted to me. I have no need of additional income."

The pretty intern with her hair pulled back trotted across the front of the auditorium to reach another journalist. Hannibal watched her as she bounded from one person to the next and was reminded just how much he liked ponytails. Clarice watched him as he tracked her across the room and nudged him with her elbow.

"You can look, but don't ever think about touching." she teased playfully with her hand over the microphone.

"Never my Love."

The intern finally reached her target, a small round headed man with perspiration on his lip. As she held the microphone in front of him he firmly gripped her wrist, more to steady himself than to assist her in any way. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

"Doctor Lecter? You were recently held hostage for several days and were treated quite brutally. There have been reports you murdered one or both of the assailants. What do you think that says about you?"

"I do not believe self-defense is classified as murder, is it Doctor Bloom?"

"And the fact that you have killed again…should this be cause for the public's concern."

"I cannot see why it would be. Charges were not brought against me. Due to the rather sensitive facts of that case the situation was never made public therefore I am unsure as to why you yourself are aware of them but be that as it may let us address the situation directly. I was held and was being tortured by two very deviant and dangerous individuals. I had reached the limits of my body's ability to withstand the punishment. I was informed by my captors that my wife would be taken in my stead had I reached the limits of my endurance. Believing as I did that they would move on Clarice, I chose to fight back. What do I think that says about me? It says that I will not allow anyone to harm the woman I love. It makes me the husband of a remarkable woman who I would do anything to protect. That makes me a man, _Alan_…nothing more…nothing less."

Clarice's eyes welled and the tears spilled unabated. She hadn't known the entire story and had no idea Hannibal had sacrificed so much to protect her. Clarice reached for his hands, his fingers tightly interlaced and white knuckled before him. She left the hand resting on his and sought his gaze. He would not shift from Bloom. She could feel his body trembling.

Clarice moved closer, "H…H…I had no idea."

"Not now, Clarice…Please."

Clarice put her arms around Hannibal and choked back the tears. He turned to her, wrapped his arms around her and held her. He tucked his face along the side of her neck and kissed her. He could feel the tears spilling.

"I'm so sorry, H…I didn't know…I didn't know."

"Clarice…please, there is no need for this. We are together... I am fine."

"I almost lost you…I almost lost you."

The microphones were uncovered. Hannibal and Clarice did not realize this intimate exchange was being picked up by the news feeds live.

Bloom not realizing how unsympathetic he was coming across, continued to pursue Hannibal verbally, "Doctor, do you ever wonder what happened to the Doctor who disappeared in the Bimini… Doctor Chilton?"

Hannibal pulled away from Clarice and smoothed his hands up and down her arms. When he was certain she had calmed he turned to Bloom and smiled a wicked smile.

"Wonder about him? No. Though I am reminded of the words of Mark Twain, 'I have never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure.' Rest assured I found his death to be quite pleasurable."

The assemblage laughed at the gallows humor.

The mayor stepped in. "That's enough Doctor Bloom you've had your say."

Clarice spoke quietly into her microphone.

"I'd like to say something. My husband is the most honorable and principled man I have ever met. He is attentive and loving and when those vicious people took him they savaged his body. I wish I could have spared him that. He is a man…he is a good man…he's _my_ man and he willingly suffered inhuman levels of physical abuse for me. I don't see why I should allow him to suffer your abuse as well, Doctor Bloom. Not for your entertainment or your personal agenda. You've long considered Hannibal your rival. That's laughable because you aren't in his intellectual league. You stand to gain by damaging him. I won't allow him to suffer your indignities any longer."

She turned to Hannibal, "No more questions, H…no more. You're through."

"Very well, Clarice."

Hannibal's neighbor reached for Clarice's hand and leaned into his microphone.

"I would like to say that Doctor Hannibal Lecter has been a good friend to my wife and I. He cooks food and brings it to the house. He sits and visits with us. He comes over on holidays to celebrate with us. He has become like the son we lost so many years ago. If he were not our neighbor…If he had not been there for us…my wife would be dead and I would be alone." The old gentleman stood and approached Hannibal.

Hannibal stood and extended his hand. The old man took his hand and shook it. He reached up with his free hand and patted Hannibal on his face. Hannibal smiled.

"Like my wife says to you all of the time…your mother would be proud of you Hannibal. You are a good man."

The mayor took the opportunity, "That concludes the press conference. Thank you all for coming."

Hannibal left the dais and moved quickly through the audience. Doctor Bloom saw him approach and attempted to leave. He was interrupted by the flow of traffic as the participants left their seats simultaneously. Hannibal caught up to him.

"Doctor Bloom? A word please?"

Bloom turned to face Hannibal. Hannibal smoothed a hand over Bloom's overcoat as if fixing the lapels. He felt a small protuberance and reached quickly into the breast pocket. He retrieved the camera.

"Thank you for holding this for me Doctor Bloom. I appreciate your assistance."

Bloom was upset but could not respond, "Not a problem, it was my pleasure Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal returned to Clarice and handed her the camera. She slipped it in her purse. "You are amazing."

"You are as well Clarice." Hannibal turned to his neighbor, "Are you returning to your home tonight?"

"Yes, the mayor said he will get a cab for me."

"You are welcome to ride with us. You may want your little dog to keep you company until your wife is able to return home. He has missed you tremendously."

Clarice followed Hannibal's lead, "Please it would be no trouble."

"Thank you…that would be wonderful."

As Clarice and Hannibal walked side by side with their neighbor Hannibal spoke quietly, "Bloom knew the facts about my capture. As I know none of our friends would have divulged that information, one person remains."

"Pearsall?"

"Pearsall."

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and let me know what you think, then pm and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	72. Chapter 72

**Welcome back to all of my wonderful fan fic friends! To all of my new friends remember your three R's! Relax, Read and Review!**

**happy birthday hollie!**

**HANNIBAL'S DOMINANCE**

Clarice walked alone next door to get the dog while Hannibal escorted his neighbor to his home to be certain he was safely inside. Hannibal checked the rooms and turned on the lights to make sure the house was indeed secure. When he had satisfied himself that the home was as it should be he returned to his exhausted and overwhelmed neighbor.

Now that all of the news crews and satellite vehicles were gone no doubt rushing the story to beat their respective deadlines, Clarice was glad for the quiet. She retrieved the small dog and walked him around the yard enjoying the crisp winter air. There was a slight heaviness to her belly, the baby resting at an awkward angle causing some discomfort.

_You'd better get here soon Junior…I'm not cut out for this bloated business. Your Daddy wants lots of babies…yeah well…he has all the fun making them and I lug a moving medicine ball under my blouse for nine months…Still…a girl would be nice. _

After entering his empty home the older gentleman sat quietly in a well-worn recliner. His weary eyes looked over to the matching chair where is wife normally sat. The old man was obviously lonely, the sadness in his eyes deeply set.

Hannibal entered the room and immediately saw the melancholy in the old man's eyes. In other circumstances involving other people Hannibal might have found the anxiety amusing though not in one as innocent as this. Hannibal found this man's pain troubling.

"She will be home soon, my friend," Hannibal comforted. "She is quite strong and I have no doubt she misses you tremendously."

Tears welled in the older man's eyes, his voice shaking with age and emotion, "They treated us at different hospitals. I haven't seen her since they took her away in the ambulance. I'm so very worried. She is all alone."

Hannibal sat in the chair beside the emotionally distraught man hoping his proximity might provide emotional support. His concern for his neighbor was evident in his voice, "You have not visited?"

Mr. Wagner wiped at his tears with the back of his gnarled hand, the wavering quiver in his chin hobbled his speech, "I…I…can't drive anymore."

Hannibal saw the heartbreak and continued to question the man seeking some clarity in the situation. Realizing that the politicians had used the man and offered him nothing in return the good doctor was now becoming quite indignant on the old gentleman's behalf, "The mayor did not offer to escort you to see her prior to the press conference?"

"No he didn't offer and I thought it was too much to ask."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed. He was angry, his voice metallic and as sharply edged as his knife, "Though, they had no problem picking you up and bringing you to that press conference with a dozen cameras flashing in your face. Not even the offer? Not a mention of your wife?"

The aged man lowered his head, vulnerable and shamed by need.

Hannibal was offended by the discourtesy shown his neighbor. "May I use your phone?"

"Of course," the elderly man gestured with his palsy addled hand to a small table.

Hannibal rose and crossed the room seeking the phone.

The couple had no surviving children therefore the telephone was very rarely needed, its disuse obvious by its location. Hannibal located it and was forced to reach awkwardly as it was wedged between an overgrown potted plant and a plastic tower filled with peppermint swirled candy. He brushed the dust from the receiver and dialed the number the mayor had given him in the event something occurred before the press conference.

The mayor's aid picked up and Hannibal spoke to him, his voice raised and direct. After a moment more the mayor was on the line. The first several exchanges were pleasantries and an initial explanation. When it was obvious the mayor had little interest in the old man's plight Hannibal soon became heated in his neighbor's defense. The old man listened with rapt attention as Hannibal quickly asserted his dominance with the strength of his voice alone.

"You were perfectly willing to use him for your political propaganda offering him not so much as a ride to his home. I would ask that you ask his pardon for your neglect and by way of apology take it one step further. You will send a car and an escort from your office to his home, pick him up and bring him to the hospital to visit his wife tomorrow and every day thereafter. You will also follow her progress and when she is ready to return home, you will have her picked up and delivered to her husband. If you do not wish to, I will be more than happy to accommodate his needs though any goodwill you may have garnered for your effort whether publicly or privately between the two of us will be foolishly squandered. And there is one more reason to consider assisting my neighbors, Sir."

The mayor was quiet on his end as he considered the ramifications. Finally he spoke with just the slightest hint of fear, "What would be the reason Doctor Lecter?"

"If you refuse, I will most assuredly not be pleased therefore friend or foe…you must choose. You have seen that I can be a tremendous ally and a very loyal friend. Let me warn you that I can just as easily be quite merciless should you decide to ignore the plight of _my_ friend."

"Yes of course Doctor Lecter any friend of yours is a absolutely a friend of mine. I'll see to the arrangements. You can rest easy knowing that your neighbor will be well escorted and attended. Thanks for bringing this to my attention."

"Not at all, I thank you for your benevolence." Hannibal returned the phone to the cradle and turned to Mr. Wagner who was by now eagerly awaiting the results of the conversation.

"The mayor will be sending a car for you tomorrow morning at ten. He will have you escorted to see your wife daily until she is discharged. In addition he will provide transportation when she is medically cleared for release. I hope that puts your mind somewhat at ease."

Mr. Wagner covered his mouth, his hands shaking in disbelief. There were tears in his eyes. "Thank you my friend…my very dear friend."

The door to the Wagner home opened and the small French bulldog came scampering in slipping and sliding across the hardwood floor. Seeing his wife's dog Mr. Wagner's eyes twinkled behind his tears. Hannibal noted the shift in the man's emotions at the mere sight of his pet.

_Something as simple as this tiny dog brings him joy. _

"Sorry it took so long. I wanted to make sure the little guy had taken a long walk and gotten everything out of his system if you know what I mean." Clarice carried with her several containers filled with food.

"Mr. Wagner I'm going to put this food in the fridge so you'll have something to eat when you get hungry."

"I don't know how to thank you both. We had been so alone here in all the years since you were gone Hannibal. You were the only neighbor who ever helped us. I'm so grateful to have you back."

Hannibal was pleased, "You have been a tremendous help to me as well. Thank you for your kind words. It meant so much that you were willing to speak up for me. If there is anything we can do for you, please do not hesitate to call on us."

"I will my friend…I will."

Clarice and Hannibal returned to their home content in the knowledge that their neighbor, comforted by his little dog, would finally have a peaceful night's sleep.

**INTAGLIO OF THE SOUL**

Hannibal and Clarice entered their home with Hannibal relieved to have helped his neighbor and Clarice even more relieved to be rid of his dog.

Hannibal arched his back and stretched his broad shoulders as he breathed a protracted inhalation. As he opened the span of his arms the deep breath evolved slowly into a satisfying roar of a yawn. Newly invigorated he quickly ran his fingers back and forth through his hair massaging his scalp as if the motion awakened his mind. His voice brightened, "I thought all in all it was a successful evening, wouldn't you say?"

Clarice was absolutely incredulous at the comment, "How do you figure? Bloom was a pain in the ass and then you drop that utter bomb in front of everyone that _I'm_ the reason the crazy bastards that held you hurt you so badly? How did you think that would make me feel, H? It's killing me to think about it. That I could have done something to stop that pain and you didn't give me the chance."

"There was nothing you could have done and that is why I did not tell you, Clarice. I had hoped that with some distance from the event you might be more able to process the situation. It seems not enough time has passed. I regret that you know the information and I regret how you came to know it."

"I don't like that you kept it from me H…I know there are things you don't tell me about your life before and I'm okay with that but this is _our _life now. You can't just shut me out."

"I'm sorry my Love. I was taken somewhat off-guard by Bloom and I find that to be troubling. The thought of it made me react in a way that I might not have otherwise. Had I been aware he possessed that information I would have handled it much differently. I would have attempted to make it easier for you to assimilate the information. The words were far too bluntly spoken."

"Words? You think if you had been less blunt it would have been easier to hear. Nothing will ever make that easier, H. You could have stopped Nico's assault?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"With a word."

"With just a word…what word?"

"Your name…Clarice."

Clarice stood perfectly still in the kitchen. Suddenly, as the ramifications of what he said began to circle in her mind the room began to spin. She leaned on the center island and reached a hand on the granite counter to steady her body. Her husband rushed to her side, turned her to him wrapped his arms around her for both physical and emotional support. He held her tightly against his body as if the contact would give her needed strength.

"Hannibal…"

Clarice spoke his name…just his name but Hannibal understood the meaning.

"You could not have stopped it. There was nothing you could have done to help me… I am not your lamb...Clarice."

Clarice reached her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his. She did not want him to see her cry though she was certain he would be aware of it.

Hannibal could smell the salty scent of her tears and understood her anguish. She was a protector and he had not allowed her to protect. He would not be able to excise her feelings of helplessness. She would need time and she would need his sensitivity.

"Your pain has always been my pain H…I don't know why…even in Baltimore…I've always felt it."

_Would she see through the bars of his plight and ache for him._

Hannibal carried her to their bedroom. Overcome, she buried her face against his chest. Hannibal rested her gently on the bed and very tenderly removed her clothing. He retrieved a warm, soft nightshirt from her armoire and helped her to dress. The addition of the garment, considering they usually slept unclothed, was his way of telling her sleep was all that would be sought this night. He readied himself and took his place in their bed.

Clarice cried. Hannibal made no effort to stop her tears as it was her way to purge the pain from her body and soul. He held his wife and whispered softly in her ear the sound of his voice bringing her comfort. It was like the hum of a bumblebee on a summer breeze though his words were more wasp-like, elegant, efficient and with the ever present threat of the sting.

"Do not deny your pain Clarice. Our scars define us. We are no longer singular. We are no longer alone…we are One. The scars I carry will form on you Clarice. They are being engraved on your soul…the intaglio will be rich and intricate its brutal elegance etched as surely and as deeply as if Nico forged your flesh himself. Know my Love that your scars have formed on me as well. We must treasure each other's anguish as surely as we treasure each other's love. It isn't pain or pleasure…it is feeling…all valid, all valuable. It is all a part of who we are… now joined Clarice."

Together they filled each other's needs. Together they brought each other peace. Together they slept; Hannibal's embrace strengthening Clarice…her embrace softening him.

In three days, Hannibal's meeting with the F.B.I. – it had been scheduled with the team to provide answers. Hannibal would attend but instead of the answers they were seeking, he would have questions of his own. Hannibal eagerly anticipated the possibility that he might add one or two additional marks to the totality of Pearsall's scars.

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! More to come…**

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**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	73. Chapter 73

**Welcome back! Enjoy **

**LH**

**REMNANTS OF THE PAST**

**BLOOM AND PEARSALL**

Bloom walked through the hallowed hallways of the agency in silence. He concentrated on his heels striking the ground as if the assertion of his footfalls reflected his resolve. They did not.

_I'm lucky I got out of there in one piece…that was a train wreck. _

Doctor Bloom had no actual desire to interact with Lecter in that uncontrolled of an environment. It was at most, exceptionally dangerous and at the very least, exceptionally bad science. Bloom was a lot of things but a sloppy practitioner he was not. He believed Lecter was inherently flawed, organically damaged and most likely incapable of such significant change.

_It could be that he's just playing house…why? For his entertainment possibly...As an experiment…maybe...more probably. _

He paused, turning within the intersection of two hallways in order to determine which choice was correct. When he regained his bearings he moved.

_His wife loves him. That much is obvious. He has provided Clarice with what she believes is an adequate home life but is he capable of providing a loving environment for the child. That would have to be assessed before the birth in April. Still, in order to assess his functionality in the real world I need to observe his behavior in a less controlled forum._

Bloom legged his way up the short flight to Pearsall's section, oblivious to onlookers as his mind churned with possibilities.

_Hannibal is charming, many women will attest to that though he was described not so much loving as…attentive. He seems to have adapted. Clarice believes he loves her…she might be fooled. I'm not as easily led. Determinations must be made for the safety of the child. _

Ambushing Hannibal at the press conference was Pearsall's idea because it presented just the opportunity they needed. Though, with such a limited time frame to work with, the execution was far from ideal. One might argue quite convincingly that it had been disastrous.

_He'll never be that easy to access again. Maybe I overplayed my hand but I needed to take Hannibal out of his comfort zone, to test him, to probe him…to challenge him._

In this way, in emotionally poking and prodding Lecter, he believed he could achieve Pearsall's objective and determine if the doctor was indeed any form of a threat. Bloom understood fully that Lecter did not trust him. He had just now understood why. Finally, the last turn down the last hallway he could see Pearsall pacing back and forth.

_Damned loud mouth name dropping Chilton!_

Normally, he might have thought this somewhat circuitous route to diagnosis Lecter was simplistic at worst and suspect at best.

_But if Hannibal Lecter remains a threat, it won't be long before he kills again._ _I need to stop arguing myself out of this. The public interest far outweighs any personal apprehension I'm feeling. Just because it didn't work doesn't mean the idea was flawed. There were simply problems with the execution. If there is another opportunity, I'll be better prepared._

Hannibal's intellectual nemesis believed correctly the sight of Will Graham might entice Lecter. During Hannibal's incarceration Will was after all one of Lecter's prized playthings. Bloom was thrilled when Graham so quickly agreed to accompany him though now, he was unsure as to why. It seemed in the brief interaction between the two that Graham had a secondary motivation. He wanted to further question Will, but could not as he slipped out just before Lecter took his seat on the dais.

Pearsall's request to document their interaction with Lecter had been the most catastrophic failure of the entire doomed endeavor. Bloom reproached himself mercilessly as he finished his long walk to Pearsall's office.

_How could I have been so gullible? _

He did not only to allow it, but by accepting the conditions, he had indeed condoned the emotional molestation of Lecter. Not normally Bloom's style. He played devil's advocate as he entered Pearsall's domain.

_Why did I let Will place the camera? Why did he choose that particular location? Sloppy…very sloppy and bad science…bad form as well. Why did I let Pearsall talk me into this? What began as intellectual curiosity has degraded into a side show. He is alerted now. There can be no fair assessment of his capabilities. Before the failed endeavor Hannibal Lecter was an intellectual aberration, a cured serial killer. Now he is not only warned, now he is an ever present threat. _

Pearsall exited his office and stalked the hallway nervously hoping Bloom had a revelation or two to share. He caught sight of Bloom and massaged his palms together in anticipation.

"What revelations do you have for me, Doctor?" Pearsall prodded as he gestured for Bloom to enter.

Bloom walked in and slouched a bit as he took his chair almost ashamed to admit the monumental failure. "No revelations other than the fact that our good friend Doctor Lecter is as cunning and brilliant as ever. Perhaps more so now that he has a family and if he truly cares for them that would give him far more to lose meaning far more to protect as well."

Pearsall had a hypothesis that needed reinforcement. He searched for any support that might fit his presumption, "So after seeing him for the first time since his incarceration did anything surprise you?"

Bloom thought for a moment and nodded, "I was really surprised at the influence of his wife Clarice. She has a great deal of control over him. Only because he allows it of course, but it is amazing that he does in fact not only allow it but actually encourage it. I was also impressed at her lack of fear and their comfort with each other."

Pearsall walked around his desk and took a seat. He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. He appeared shiftless and bored and seemed a man searching for conflict. It was as if boredom had been scratching behind his eyelids, itching incessantly at his brain. "So she seems happy with him? He doesn't have undue control?"

"Quite the opposite actually, he seemed to defer to her." Bloom crossed one leg over the other and shook his foot loosely, watching the shoelace shimmy with the movement. He was distracted as his mind churned with questions about Hannibal.

Pearsall nodded in agreement, "She's strong-willed so if anyone can stand up to him…it's Starling. So he was in good spirits? He seemed…stable?"

"He appears stable though he maintained a thriving medical practice while he committed all sorts of atrocities so we can't really go by that. I did make a concerted effort to rouse his anger. It didn't seem to matter because he was already upset with me at that point."

"Why was he upset?"

"He apparently made the connection to Chilton's treatments and my background participation. I had no idea my cursory consultations on the case were known to him. I had always been aware that we were rivals of sorts but I did have a professional admiration for his intellectual gifts. I had dared to hope that he might have a similar opinion of me. I was taken aback at the animosity. There was true hatred in his eyes."

"What _gifts_?" Pearsall questioned sarcastically. The query seemed almost rhetorical in its presentation.

"Your tone illustrates to me that you don't respect Lecter. That's fine Clint but you should know that everyone who has ever underestimated this man is dead. Lecter's mind is absolutely impenetrable unless he lets you in and he only shows you what he _wants_ you to see. He operates on an entirely different plane of consciousness. He has an incisive and absolutely laser-like intuition…impossible to quantify. His instincts are more animal than human…he can identify specific individuals by scent, determine their location and can assess emotions similarly. I've seen him do it and it's almost…otherworldly."

Pearsall remained unconvinced. "There's been so much bullshit about how smart Lecter is that I can't believe it. He pisses up a rope and everyone stands around and play in the bubbles."

"You can joke if you want but this is all documented. Remember, the first year he was incarcerated he cooperated with therapy and testing. We attempted to test his I.Q and it was off the chart. It is also staggering how many different highly complex computations he can process simultaneously. He's an intellectual aberration and you will never encounter a mind like this, more to the point there has never been a mind like this, so keep an open mind and stay on your toes."

"Okay…okay smartest man on the planet…smartest man to ever live… blah, blah, blah, I get it. I'm keeping an open mind so go ahead and enlighten me. What makes this hatch case's brain so special?"

"Hannibal can compartmentalize his body's reaction to physical stimuli including the receptors for pain, he can restrict his reponse to emotional input and he can access or restrict access to his intellect at will. This gives him the uncanny ability to simultaneously work on several extremely complex mathematical computations, review case studies, assess the patient's diagnosis and create treatment plans simultaneously. Particle physics and chaos theory are no more than a hobby to him. He also has an inhuman tolerance for pain and any attempts to access his memory through psychopharmacological means was futile. I have never seen him overwhelmed, or perplexed and believe me some of the tests we put him through were…well, let us say I would not have attempted them on a man less than he. Another trait that stood out was that he never doubted his reactions or responses. He truly believed that he was never wrong…ever…he was always singular in that confidence."

"_Was_ he ever wrong?" Pearsall wondered out loud.

"We reviewed every file we could find that hadn't been altered or destroyed. Each diagnosis and every treatment or surgery performed had been absolutely perfect and he knew it. We interviewed him and his trust and belief in his abilities was absolutely unshakable."

"It's that ego of his…goddamned legendary."

"Maybe so but it is founded in experience. As a boy I'm certain he believed everyone's minds were as capable as his. As he aged and he learned how singular he is, well…that's bound to give anyone a bit of an ego. All of his work has been groundbreaking and revolutionary in its insight. I read everything I could find and tried to punch holes in some of his theories but I didn't have the capacity to grasp some of what he was proposing. It was…impressive."

"Yeah, I've heard that before. The surgeon who examined Starling said that too."

"To be honest I wish he would trust me…if we could find out what drove him to his violence and what drove him to stop…it's possible we could do much good," there was regret in Bloom's voice.

"Yeah well that'll never happen. He doesn't exactly have the best memories of his incarceration, Allen. I'm sure you can understand that. I've read the case file and trust me that dumbass Chilton absolutely tormented him for the years he had him. He was treated goddamned sadistically and if he connects you to that, you're pretty much useless to my purposes unless I can come up with an incentive. I need some of that information I asked you to get…we have a meeting with Lecter soon. What about the camera?"

Bloom shook his head in disappointment, "The camera is dead end. Lecter saw it and he took it from me at the press conference."

The utter disgust in Pearsall's eyes was apparent. "Jesus Christ, Allen…How'd you let that happen?"

"_Let _it happen? Precisely how do you propose I stop _Hannibal Lecter_, Mr. Pearsall? It isn't as if I gave it to him. He patted me down and took it from my pocket right in front of a crowd of people. There was nothing more I could have done."

"Jesus…now I have to meet with him and not only do I have nothing to show for all of this, he's gonna be pissed off."

"That is putting it mildly. What do you need all this for? Is it about him being captured and held? Did that really happen?"

"Yeah and we've got a couple of corpses on ice to prove it. He definitely killed the woman, probably the man as well but that's a notch Clarice is claiming for her belt so that's why we are meeting with them. He was definitely abducted, the Lecter security footage show the entire episode. Not to mention the damage the man did to Lecter. The wounds are horrific. I just requested a debriefing to go over the details. I need to know he isn't a threat. When he was fucking around playing husband in Argentina no one up here cared what he was doing but if he's going to be living in the States part of the time the Administration wants assurances. Where's Graham?"

"He left before the press conference saying that he didn't want to run into Lecter after the event. He wanted to check in on his wife and son. That was probably more of an excuse to get away from me. He most likely didn't want Lecter to continue to associate him with me."

"Why did he want to check on his family? Did Lecter make a threat?"

"I don't know if a threat was implied but there was absolutely no direct threat. Nothing I picked up on anyway but Graham and Lecter have a form of verbal shorthand. Lecter says one thing and Graham takes it in another way. Graham rambled something about that reporter, Lounds…from the Tattler. You know the one that Frances Dolarhyde murdered. He was extremely disturbed and I'm not sure I should have involved him. Lecter never mentioned it but I guess somehow he got in his mind and poked about. I know he did that quite freely during their meetings. Graham's ability to filter Lecter's stimuli may be somewhat compromised."

"But he said he wanted to help right?"

"He claimed he would do this as a favor to me but when Lecter prompted, he actually agreed to meet with him separately so I'm not certain all of his motivations are clear."

Pearsall picked up his phone and began to punch numbers aggressively, "I'll get that son of a bitch on board. He wants to meet with Lecter on his own that's fine. He can meet with Jack the goddamned ripper for all I give a damn just as long as I get briefed."

**HANNIBAL'S NIGHT**

Clarice rolled away from Hannibal as they slept. The nightshirt combined with her pregnancy heated her body to the point where she was uncomfortable. She was soon motivated to avoid Hannibal's body heat altogether.

Hannibal was sleeping soundly when his sub-conscious attacked. He was unprepared for the aggressive intrusion and fell prey to the intrusive thoughts. His sleeping body stirred and twitched as he reacted in his bed to the discomforting images rising.

_Hannibal travelled through the dark underbelly of his ancestral home. There were many hidden passages; some were used for the servants to move about the home undetected from the residents and their guests. Some were designed for quick and stealthy escape in the event the castle had ever been overrun. Hannibal ran through the tunnels that traveled beneath the castle. There was a threat pursuing, chasing them but he could not identify it. He moved quickly to protect his wife and his infant son. His stomach burned with acid as dread flooded his body. His mind, untouched by the anxiety attempted to formulate a plan. _

_**Escape…we need to get out of here…Clarice and the baby…Protect Clarice and the baby. A door…find a door!**_

_He clutched his baby to his chest and with his free hand he kept Clarice near._

_**There is movement…people…danger...stay away…the people…they mean to harm.**_

_The noises ahead, voices, the clattering of metal, the closing of doors were all ambient sounds that Hannibal had become familiar with. _

_**The sounds…the people…they are not of this place. It is no longer home…it is no longer safe.**_

_There was a tremendous sense of foreboding as he thundered through the tunnels, charging and splashing through the murky puddles now filled with waste and decay. _

_It was as if Fear had anthropomorphized, running beside him, whipping him mercilessly, driving him forward through the darkness. His heart struggled with each beat as if his new companion's massive hand had reached to his core, grasped the pulsing organ and squeezed steadily. The pressure interrupted the organ's freedom to beat causing Hannibal's breathing to strain. His collapsing lungs wheezed from effort._

_The tunnels were cavernous, the depths of blackness plunged down to the twisting bowels beneath the castle. Hannibal's eyes glowed. A ring of maroon surrounded the blackness of the pupils, as if molten steel swirled there. His adrenalin surged as he rushed through the passages searching for the exit._

_Finally finding the doorway he reached for the handle. The moment his hand fell upon it the earth began to shake. Hannibal stood very still as he assessed the sensation to determine what was generating the disturbance._

_**Not natural…not an earthquake. The rumbling is…mechanized.**__**Tanks…whose?**_

_He looked to Clarice and saw her eyes wide with terror. _

_**H…get us out of here!**_

_Planes above…low…just above the tree tops, the sounds of strafing as the bullets ricocheted above them. A protracted high pitched whistle elicited panic in Hannibal the escalating fear now wild in his eyes. He drove his legs like pistons attempting to get his family through the doorway. Too late…the sound too close the danger was upon them. Terror in his voice reflected his desperation to protect. _

_**Clarice…take cover! **_

_The whistle ended in a large explosion the merciless concussion throwing the family in the air tumbling one over the other. Moments later, gravity slammed them to the ground. Hannibal scrambled to his wife, her once worshipped body now bloody and lifeless. A large timber had split, ejecting an arrow-like projection ripping through her throat. Her unseeing eyes were already glazed over and stared blankly at the dust and debris that swirled in the air above. She was covered in a dense layer of soot and silt. Lovingly using only the most gentle of touches Hannibal floated his now trembling fingertips above the face of his treasured wife and closed her once bright eyes. _

_Anguish overtook Hannibal as he clutched his child to him and roared his grief to the walls of stone._

_Hannibal's tears flowed, mud forming as the dirt from the collapsed building mixed with the anguish of his loss. The child too cried though Hannibal made no move to console his son any more than he sought to control his own grief. There could be no solace from this, only bone breaking sorrow. _

_The massive timbers continued to swing above like macabre gates threatening to close them in. Hannibal could see how tenuous their situation and sought immediate escape. He attempted to climb over the rubble but it shifted and collapsed beneath him. It was as if Hannibal were attempting to ford a field of lava gingerly navigating the surface as it cooled. His body weight caused his feet to break through and caused his unsure footing to falter. He tried to move quickly over the rubble but as a large beam rolled, he was smashed once more to the pile. Hannibal's protective nature was such that he was able to cushion the baby but only because he had so gladly surrendered his own body to the wreckage as payment._

_The attack was not over as there were other planes…other concussions and again, no time to react. Hannibal looked up to see the largest timber of the post and beam support swing loose and crash toward him. Hannibal wrapped the baby in his arms and rolled to the side protecting his upper body and head. Because Hannibal had pulled the baby against his chest the child was unharmed. Hearing the twisting creaking beams, the desperate father attempted to stand but was clubbed to the ground as the upper supports snapped like twigs. The severed limb-like beams were again swinging with reckless abandon. _

_Pain seared through Hannibal's body. He was pinned, his legs no more than mashed flesh and splintered bone. _

_**The child is safe.**_

Again, there was creaking but this was not the creaking of the split beams. It was the creaking of metal that whined from rust and disuse…This time it was the sound of a key spinning within a massive iron lock.

_Before him, in a place where it had never been, at a time it could not be was the large glass wall that Clarice had viewed Hannibal through so many years earlier…or was it later…blood loss made the determination of time and space so difficult to assess. _

_From behind the clear barrier through the doorway stepped Pearsall. He reached for the child and attempted to pull it from Hannibal's bloodied grip. Hannibal would not relent so Pearsall left the cell. Bloom was standing in the hallway. He waved a hand oblivious to Hannibal's pain. _

_Enrikas Dortlich and Vladis Grutas came out from beyond the wall. Dortlich wrapped a rope around Hannibal's throat and tightened it. Dortlich stepped on Hannibal's shoulder blades and pulled. Hannibal gasped and choked his eyes bulging. He fought off death as he struggled to hold on to the life he created. Just before he lost consciousness and slipped into the abyss Grutas attempted to pull the baby from his embrace but Hannibal was no longer a child. He would not voluntarily release his son to these monsters. Hannibal raged within his mind, charging through his memory palace looking for anything that might help him save his infant son. Every door he reached for was locked._

_**No, No! You cannot have this child! Not my son…Not this…not again!**_

_Grutas reached for an ax and twisted his body swinging the ax over his head. As the tool dropped, the blunt section of the ax head smashed against Hannibal's shoulder crushing it. The arm was now fully flaccid. Again, Hannibal Lecter could not protect. Again, Grutas ripped his heart from him. _

_Hannibal's eyes rolled up in his head but before he lost consciousness, he watched Grutas pass the child._

_Immune to Hannibal's raw and anguish filled sobs as he choked away his last breath, Pearsall took the baby in his arms and silently walked away. _

Hannibal woke in a cold sweat thankful that Clarice had not sensed this disturbance. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging low from the exhaustion of expended emotions.

All that had been given had not yet been earned. Now…in his dreams...all had been taken away. Hannibal understood. Their world had collapsed. All they were, all they had been, all they might have become was now crushed under the mighty timbers of his past.

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always there is more on the way my friends!**

**Review and let me know what you think, then PM to say hello!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	74. Chapter 74

**Welcome back! Hope you enjoy! **

**LH**

**A WINK AND A WORD**

His luminous maroon eyes searched the semi-darkness. Though he was physically affected by the experience he was not emotionally upset by the nightmare itself. Understanding the physiological process of dreaming he was not so much disturbed as intrigued by his mind's ability to link the stresses of his present life to the traumatic events of his childhood.

His heart was beating forcefully in response to the chemicals his sleeping mind released. He would need to calm himself. Hannibal's body responded to the adrenalin by alerting his senses and enhancing their ability to assess incoming stimuli. Scents and sounds were enhanced and the flood of enzymes that raced through his body created a hyper-vigilance that would make sleep elusive for a time.

So Hannibal Lecter sat on the edge of the bed with his eyes lightly focused and allowed colors of his imaginative palette to paint the darkness. As his mind's eye washed the walls with deeply saturated hues he enjoyed the respite while recounting an aria from the opera he attended in Florence. This particular performance was especially gratifying as it was the very week he had the pleasure of gutting Rinaldo Pazzi. The memories of each were richly layered and forever linked in his mind.

He curled his toes and drove his feet into the rich pile of the Persian rug, warm and inviting as he imagined the feel of his Harpy hooking in and tearing Pazzi's soft, traitorous underbelly. He could imagine the smell the blood, the warm iron scent of which caused warm saliva to pool in his mouth.

As the colors and sounds floated about him mixing with the scent of open intestine and splashing with the crimson of Pazzi's blood, Hannibal imagined his hand floating over his wife's body. He could sense the pressure of his palm and fingers as he revisited the first time he touched her. Breathing deeply, he cherished the remembered physicality that caused her muscles to undulate from the pressure of his fingers and hands.

The soft flesh of her back had slipped effortlessly under his care as he massaged the slim, wiry muscles beneath. A shiver rustled up his spine as he called to mind the tender touch of his lips, the slightest whisper of his tongue used to trace the length of her back. He believed he could smell the scent of her shampoo as he remembered gracefully sweeping her hair aside so that he might explore the elegant line of her neck with his mouth. He nipped and sucked gently on her flesh leaving tiny bursts of blood just beneath the milky surface of her porcelain skin.

He could smell the almond scented soap. Anticipation building, he could not wait to taste the sweetness of her body.

_Not yet…soon._

Hannibal's respirations evolved much more slowly, deepening with the fullness of his memory. His back arched as he rolled his shoulders with each inhalation, relaxed, almost hypnotized from the experience.

The devoted husband brought forth with exquisite detail each and every one of the physical sensations of that specific experience. His deft fingertips had pushed and probed the striations of her muscles rolling his thumbs as he squeezed and pinched her deltoids his attention designed to relax and comfort.

The memories of this their first experience exploring each other, even before the foreplay that lead to their first coupling was so pleasing to Hannibal he shut out the colors and the sounds, even the delicious agony of Pazzi and now solely focused his attention on the memory of Clarice alone.

His eyes tightly closed, he now explored the textures of her body as he remembered rolling the heel of his hand feeling the exact flexion of his muscles as they worked the deep curve of her back. His heart rate increased slightly as his hands smoothed across her hips and joined, kneading her thighs, reaching upward, inward toward the gentle slope of her bottom.

He reached under her body and slipped his hand beneath her, leading her to turn onto her back. Inhaling deeply he enjoyed her scent, her want of him evident. Even now he could feel the warmth of her flesh, the heat of her passion, so close to his hands. He lowered his head and kissed her soft, flat belly. Lower still he trailed his tongue further, her flesh quivering with anticipation. He dipped his head and covered her flesh, tasting her essence. The whisper of an airy sigh burned within him.

_Clarice you are delicious._

The sensation of this memory was now so real to him that a satisfied smile crossed his face. Slowly his mind began to calm, the nightmare effectively and fully abrogated.

Clarice turned on her side and reached for the comfort of her husband's body. When her hand did not find him her eyes opened. When she saw that he was sitting upright she did not speak deciding instead to watch him carefully. It was a bright night the fullness of the moon illuminating the room much more than most.

As if he could hear the movement of her eyelids Hannibal's eyes opened. Sitting with his back to her his posture was unnaturally straight. Hannibal did not turn the trunk of his body, instead turning his head alone to regard his wife. He remained in near profile. He did not speak.

"Are you okay, H?"

A whisper, he wanted to remain in that place within his memory, "Yes."

"Did you have another nightmare?" Clarice questioned with concern, a palm placed on his back for loving support.

"Yes," louder now. The moment slipped away, evaporating like the cool mist of fog with the heat of the sunrise.

"Want to talk?"

"The nightmare is reflective of some anxiety I am feeling. I am concerned that Pearsall is inserting himself into our affairs. I am unsure as to his motivations."

Clarice crawled carefully across the bed stopping just behind her husband. She rose to her knees and draped her body over his back, her arms loosely crossing in front of his collarbone. She nuzzled against his neck, kissing just behind his ear.

"If Pearsall is really involved, someone directed him. He's not the type that goes out of his way to look for extra case loads. Not to mention he's scared shitless of you."

"What would your assessment be of his involvement?"

_Thrill me with your acumen. _

"My best guess would be that since we returned to the States the powers that be want an assessment of your mental health. The exam you received when they were hunting for the Bashandi girl was merely a rubber stamp. They weren't worried about you killing anyone up here 'cuz they knew we were living in another country."

Clarice began to massage Hannibal's back and shoulders. He rolled his head, comforted by the contact. She continued her evaluation.

"Now that they understand we'll return from time to time they'll want to be much more certain. Self-defense or not a couple of dead bodies a few months after a Presidential pardon would be enough to initiate an investigation. They'll want a psychological assessment to determine the likelihood of recidivism. They'll only trust Bloom with that but they don't believe you'll agree to meet with him. Still, they don't know you like I do, H."

"And what is your opinion Clarice? I'm curious."

"I know you will make them sweat but I have no doubt that you'll agree to meet with Bloom."

"Knowing how I feel about that man what leads you to that conclusion I wonder?"

"Well…because I think you would be incredibly entertained by his psychological…fumbling."

"And?"

"And I think that for the sake of our lives here and our son, short of dancing naked in the streets, you'd agree to almost anything."

There was a flicker of fire behind his eyes. Hannibal winked at Clarice and teased, "If it meant you might join me, I would agree to that as well, Clarice."

The visual too humorous to ignore Clarice laughed so hard she fell back onto the bed.

"If anyone ever knew you, H…you're a silly ass!"

Hannibal turned, covered Clarice with his body and kissed her playfully. He whispered in her ear using a faux Russian accent as if a KGB agent in a b-rated spy novel. "Shhhh…Tell no one!"

**WILL GRAHAM**

Will Graham met Ardelia at a small restaurant a short walk from the F.B.I. offices. She didn't want anyone to overhear her conversation and Will didn't want Bloom to know what he was doing. Graham arrived fifteen minutes prior to the meeting wanting a few minutes to sit and think.

He had never met Agent Mapp though he was aware that unlike Clarice who had ruffled far too many feathers, she was well thought of within the agency. She did not have the problems Clarice had with upper management and had been maneuvering the mine fields of red tape and political correctness within the department adeptly. Clarice did not suffer fools well and that combined with her affinity for Hannibal Lecter, hurt her chances for advancement.

Ardelia not only suffered the fools, she surrounded herself with them and consistently used them to advantage. They were tools in her mind and were just as useful to her as her handcuffs, her badge or her gun.

Graham was sipping his coffee waiting for Ardelia surprised at the tremor in his hand as he held the cup. Lecter had that effect on him. Even now, so many years removed he broke out into a cold sweat just thinking about him.

_Fear is the price of our instrument._

He set the cup on the saucer as Ardelia approached the table. He wanted a steady hand when he took hers in greeting.

"Hey Will I'm Ardelia, Clarice's roommate…well not anymore, that's Hannibal's job but still her good friend. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Graham extended his tremulous appendage, thankful there remained only the slightest trace of a twitch, "Hi Ardelia thanks for agreeing to meet with me."

"Yeah, no problem," she took her seat, "So you want to meet with Hannibal?"

"I'd like to talk to him about a few different things. Get his opinion. You call him Hannibal…To his face?"

"Sure…we all do, why?"

Graham sipped his coffee and shrugged his shoulders maybe just a bit jealous that he and Hannibal had not achieved that comfort before his incarceration, "I didn't think he would allow that level of…intimacy."

A waitress came to the table. Ardelia pointed quickly to a picture on the menu all the while, her eyes remained on Graham. "Intimacy…Jesus Will. I'm his friend. I'm not fucking him."

"Sorry…it's just that I've never addressed him using his given name. We didn't have that kind of a relationship."

The waitress returned with a plate of food for Graham. She poured coffee for Ardelia pausing a moment longer than need be, interested in the conversation since the dropping of the 'f' bomb moments earlier.

Ardelia stared at Graham. She did not avert her eyes but maintained contact until, uncomfortable with the perusal, Graham looked away. She saw the fear in his eyes.

"You're afraid of him aren't you? Why? Worried he might come after you or your family?"

Will was embarrassed. He had been an Agent. He was well trained and well thought of yet in front of Hannibal he felt no more than a schoolboy. Still he always attempted to give as good as he got. He did not back away. Even now, common sense told him not to seek Hannibal out. Still…he was doing just that. "I don't know…I guess that depends on a lot of variables. I'd be lying if I pretended the thought hadn't occurred to me."

Ardelia dumped copious amounts of sugar into coffee along with a splash of cream. Her voice was calm, as if discussing a car pool or something. "He won't you know."

"You sound so sure. How well do you know him?"

"As well as anyone can I guess…I don't know that anyone, aside from Clarice that is, knows him at all. I only know that he won't hurt anyone unless they pose a direct threat to his family."

Graham shook his head, "He's killed plenty of people that posed no threat to him."

"That was before Clarice. He is absolutely devoted to her. I've never seen a man that obsessed with a woman. He's done things for her that no normal man would do."

Ardelia's food arrived. Unlike Graham who was more redecorating his plate with his food, Ardelia dug right in and began to eat.

"Are you talking about the abduction?" Graham questioned, more to see if Ardelia would answer than for the information.

Her mouth full from a forkful of eggs she articulated carefully not to lose any of the meal, "I won't discuss any details. Hannibal trusts me and I won't do anything to jeopardize that trust. Suffice it to say that he endured more than any man could or would to prevent that deviant from getting to Clarice."

Still Graham was unconvinced, "I find it difficult to believe he loves anyone."

"Why?" Ardelia thought the message was fairly clear. She found his stubbornness disconcerting.

"Because he's insane."

"He is one of the sanest men I've ever met. People label what they don't understand. He was branded insane because we can't imagine how or why he did the things he did. I wouldn't pretend to guess how his mind works. I only know that Clarice loves Hannibal and Hannibal loves Clarice. Have you seen them together?"

"Only for a few moments but it's obvious she can influence his behavior. She has him well- leashed."

"Now that he is a free man do you think there is any leash in the world strong enough to hold Hannibal Lecter if he didn't allow it?"

"I think an emotional leash is stronger than a physical one. I think he was denied a lot of things during his incarceration including the company of women and I think Clarice Starling is quite a beautiful woman."

"Oh my God Graham did you just actually refer to Hannibal Lecter as being pussy whipped!"

"Well not in so many words but…yes."

"That's priceless!" Ardelia took out her cell phone and dialed Clarice

Clarice picked up instantly. "Hey Dee, what's up?"

"Hey Girl! I'm here with Will Graham. Before you tell me what's a good time for your hubby to meet up with him I thought I'd tell you he thinks Hannibal is pussy whipped!"

Clarice laughed, "I don't know…maybe he is. I'll ask him."

Ardelia covered her cell by pressing it against her chest. "Hang on Will…she's asking him."

Graham's face burned with embarrassment, "Jesus Christ are you both crazy! You're going to get me killed."

Ardelia shrugged him off, "Oh don't be such a baby. Hannibal's a pussycat."

Will buried his face in his hands, "This is mortifying."

Clarice walked into the kitchen where Hannibal was preparing lunch, "Hey, H I've got Ardelia on the line. She's with Will Graham. He thinks you're pussy whipped and we wanted your opinion. What do you think?"

"_Pussy_ whipped, Clarice?"

"Yup."

"Yours?"

"Yup."

_If I saw you every day, forever, I'd remember this time._

Hannibal smiled a wicked smile his eyes glittered with fiery pinpoints of red, his answer, a flirtatious wink and a word. "Yup."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	75. Chapter 75

**Welcome back my friends!**

**Author's note:**

**I received many complimentary pm's asking how I came up with the intaglio reference in a previous chapter. For those of you who may have visited my profile page I am an artist. One of my specialties is Lithography. I utilize intaglio, the process of carving an image into a metal plate, place the metal sheet in an acid bath and burn the image directly onto that plate. The plate is then used to create the actual Lithographic print. I used this process of creating artistic imagery as the physical representation of the emotional scars we all accumulate. Hope that's clear and thanks for your curiosity!**

**The Only True Torture**

Clarice laughed at Hannibal's response and relayed it to Ardelia, "Yup…he agrees...definitely."

Ardelia listened to Clarice. She was smiling widely seeing her uncomfortable companion writhing with embarrassment and couldn't help but giggle. Thinking the answer might relieve some of Graham's discomfort she quickly passed the message along with an amused lilt to her voice, "No worries, Will. Hannibal agrees with you."

"Seriously Ardelia…I'll never be able to face that man again," Will mumbled miserably.

She waved Graham off, "Oh come on, man up, and don't be such a baby. He's not going to roast you on a spit- he's got a sense of humor!" Ardelia turned her attention back to Clarice, "Sorry Clarice, poor Graham is freaking out here. So…when and where do you want to do this?"

"Tell him to relax Hannibal isn't upset with him. I think he actually likes Will. Tell the poor guy we will expect him here tomorrow at one. Hannibal's making lunch and tell the man he isn't on the menu for Christ's sake."

"Good one! I think that's what he's worried about." Ardelia whispered into the phone, adding to Graham's paranoia.

Clarice was equally amused, "You want to come? It might make Graham feel better if an active agent was on the premises and we can hang out while H and Will do their thing."

"Sure sounds like fun. Logan's working anyway I've got nothing going on. See you then."

Ardelia closed her cell phone and looked over to see her companion still in distress.

"Jesus, Graham you look like you're gonna be sick."

Will covered his face with his hands appearing almost nauseous. His voice wavered slightly though he made every effort to fortify it with increased volume, "I can't believe this. It's so…surreal. You just had Clarice Starling ask Hannibal Lecter is he was pussy whipped and he answered you? He actually lets you taunt him like that?"

"First of all you'd better call her by her name. She's Clarice Lecter now and damn proud of it so leave that Starling crap behind before you show up to meet with them. Second, I wasn't taunting him, I was teasing him. He likes to tease his friends and if he's going dish it out, he'd sure as shit better be able to take it. Third, you should know that I really like Hannibal so don't talk shit about him. He's got a really witty and twisted sense of humor, he says what's on his mind, he's insanely loyal to his wife and his friends and I find it…refreshing."

"His _friends_?"

"Will you are really starting to piss me off. I get that you're freaked out about this but you're going to have to get your mind out of that dungeon because he's not like that anymore. He's mellowed with age but he's still Hannibal Lecter. He loves his wife, he's not a raving lunatic but he's not about to kiss your ass or anyone else so get your head on straight or he'll pick you the hell apart just for the fun of it."

Will put some food in his mouth and chewed on it as if the motion would help him process the paradigm shift he was undergoing. "Mellowed…he was mellow right up to the moment he almost gutted me with a goddamned linoleum knife. He's about as mellow as a grizzly bear."

Ardelia lifted her coffee cup over her head and held it there, her signal that she wanted a refill. She continued talking while the waitress filled it and brought the cup to her mouth as soon as the waitress moved away with the pot. "He may be a grizzly bear but Clarice keeps his claws in. He only shows them when he needs to. Clarice just told me he really likes you so don't give him a reason not to."

Will leaned in, the topic too sensitive to be overheard, "He killed that woman _in_ the shower. Not what I would describe as _mellow_."

Ardelia stuffed a forkful of food In her mouth and pointed the fork at Graham accusingly, "Hey, if that was the place where she was stupid enough to let her guard down then that's where she was going to die. Do you think a man in that situation is going to care whether or not he's in the shower?"

"Clarice knows about it?" he whispered.

Ardelia's irritation was beginning to show. She put her fork down and pushed her plate away, folding her hands on the table in front of her as if trying to contain her emotions within her grasp. Her voice was steady, "Yeah, of course she _knows_ about it. They don't have any secrets from each other. Again, do you think she cares? He was able to get away from them before they killed him. She put the final bullets in the other son of a bitch. She would have killed them both if it brought H back to her."

"H?"

"Yeah…she calls him H."

"Like I said before…surreal…Do you think they wanted to kill him? I've read about that woman…she was obsessed with him…physically…sexually."

"What are you getting at Will?"

"What I 'm getting at his Doctor Lecter probably wasn't in _mortal_ danger but he killed anyway."

"Trust me Graham…I was there and I saw the wounds on Hannibal's body when they were bloody and raw. He was absolutely in mortal danger. That crazy bastard torturing him was relentless. Hannibal is a powerful man but he is a man and he isn't a young man. He had reached his breaking point and had to stop them or that crazy fuck Nico would have gotten to Clarice. I imagine if you are dealing with the F.B.I. that you have been briefed. You read my report? You know what they did to Hannibal?"

Graham nodded his head, his voice conceding the point, "Yeah, I know. They brutalized him."

"I talked to him about it before I finished the report and I asked him what the worst of it was. Out of all that torture do you know what he said was the hardest to take?"

"I would guess the skinning."

Ardelia looked him straight in the eye so there would be no confusion. "He told me it was the pending threat to Clarice. He could handle the physical pain. He couldn't handle the thought that Clarice would be next. He considered that threat, the threat to his wife, the only true torture."

"Don't you think it's interesting that he could deal with that level of physical abuse but the psychological threat was what tormented him? I didn't think anything would shake that man up least of all the threat of pain to someone else."

Ardelia shook her head, "If you really knew him, that wouldn't surprise you in the least."

Graham looked away his unfocused eyes filled with past torment, "Everything about him surprises me."

Ardelia nodded. That she understood, "Well get ready to be surprised some more because he wants to meet with you… tomorrow at one."

Seeing an opportunity to secure his family's safety, Graham's eyes brightened, "Where?"

"Their home in Baltimore…you know the one. You shot him there."

"Great…not many bad memories there," he answered sarcastically.

_Do you dream much, Will?_

"Not to worry you won't be alone with him. I'll be there with Clarice so you there's nothing for you to freak out about. Clarice thought you might feel better if you had an active agent on the premises with you. Make you feel safer."

"Are you kidding me? I've been next to him while he was in leg chains, hands cuffed behind his back tethered to a steel cable with snipers guarding him and I felt exposed."

"Well, I'll be there to add moral support okay? You want to ride in together or do you want to meet me in front of their house so you don't have to go in on your own?"

Graham considered the offer for a couple of seconds. Tempting as it was, shaking his head he dismissed it, "No…I don't want Lecter thinking I need someone to hold my hand so I'll drive myself. You get there whenever you want. He'll lose what little respect he has for me if I don't have the balls to face him man to man. No matter how nervous I seem now I know he isn't a stupid man…I'll be fine."

"He won't bite…don't worry," she teased as she went back to her breakfast, content with the arrangements.

Will Graham was not as confident. He sat quietly, again redecorating his plate with his food. The only thing now being consumed would be his peace of mind. Nerves would be his battle for the next twenty–four hours and food would not touch his lips until lunch with Hannibal Lecter. Will Graham would not sleep tonight.

**Meeting Hannibal**

Ardelia arrived fifteen minutes before Will Graham. Partly because she wanted to see if Clarice or Hannibal needed any help preparing for the meeting. Mainly though, it was because she really wanted to see the expression on Graham's face when Hannibal and Clarice welcomed him into their home.

Ardelia and Clarice were sitting at the breakfast counter watching Hannibal put the finishing touches on lunch when the doorbell rang. Clarice smiled and looked to Hannibal for guidance, "Hey…this is your party, H...Are you answering the door or am I?"

Hannibal picked up a towel and wiped his hands. He removed the apron from around his waist placed it on the granite counter and smiled, "I shall get the door, Clarice. I wouldn't want Ex-Special Agent Graham to think me an ungracious host."

Clarice laughed, "Oh, yeah…_that's_ what he's worried about…your _hosting_ skills. I'm sure he was up all night worrying about it!"

Ardelia chimed in, equally amused, "Are you kidding me? That poor S.O.B. still thinks he may be the main course on the menu! He was all but shitting himself when I met with him. I give him credit though he sucked it up and came here all by his lonesome."

"Young Will may be overly cautious but he is not a coward. He has always been willing to face me, even though it makes him…uncomfortable."

Hannibal Lecter moved quietly remembering the last time he welcomed then Special Agent Graham. He opened the door and faced the man. Hannibal could smell the fear simmering on Graham's skin perspiring with anxiety.

"Good afternoon Will…so good of you to come."

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Doctor Lecter."

"Not at all, it is my pleasure. Please, come in. We have much to talk about, I think."

Will Graham entered the home, his thoughts of the ambulance ride that ended their last encounter.

Hannibal Lecter led the man into his home once again. Hannibal's memory now filled with the remembered scent of Graham's fear as it mixed with the metallic scent of warm, newly spilled blood. The good doctor believed he could feel serum as it pulsed from Will's wounds the memory of which brought him immense pleasure.

Will blurted out his purpose immediately, "I have some information that might help you to protect your son."

Hannibal, now understanding the topic of conversation held a hand up to silence Will temporarily, "Join me in my study, Will. I do not wish my wife to overhear this conversation."

The pair bypassed the women in the kitchen and went directly to the study. As soon as the door closed, the doctor directed Will to sit across from the large burled walnut desk.

Hannibal tilted his head to the side silently considering the implications of the previously made statement. "And what are you asking in return for this information?"

"My family…Doctor? I am seeking your word. Your assurance that my son…that my family will not be a target of your…attentions…ever."

Hannibal was deadly serious in his reply, "You have my word…your family is forever safe."

"It's Bloom. He wants your son."

Hannibal Lecter, hands clasped firmly behind his back, paced back and forth in front of the large bookcase assessing the situation. His voice was firm though it showed little emotion other than the steely resolve glowing within his maroon eyes, "He wishes to take my son from me? That would not only be unwise, it would be quite dangerous. Suffice it to say it would be better for him had _he _not been born."

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**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	76. Chapter 76

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**Enjoy LH**

**A Match Made in Heaven**

Will Graham struggled to ignore the larger sweat droplets pooling to form from the tiny beads on his upper lip. Though they tickled and were a tremendous distraction he was actually glad for it. It gave him something on which to focus aside from the thousand reasons he should not be sitting in the same room where he was nearly killed _with_ the cannibal who tried to kill him.

_I think I'll eat your heart._

Will's voice was slightly elevated to offset the volume of his blood pressure which now pulsed so loudly within his ears that it dulled his hearing.

"Pearsall was asked by the White House to find a covert way to evaluate your mental health. They are obviously concerned since that last episode during your captivity."

"_Episode_?" Hannibal questioned although he fully understood the euphemism.

"It's a reference to the deaths of your captors."

Hannibal smiled a very wicked smile, "Ah, I see. Based on that, what suppositions have they made?"

"They believe that should you choose to remain in the United States the odds of recidivism have escalated. Of course now that they need firm answers, Bloom was called in."

"Of course…I understand." Hannibal stood very still, his hands clasped behind his back.

Will was transfixed by the man's elegant bearing both regal and savage. His heart skipped a beat the moment he imagined where on Hannibal's body the Harpy was hidden.

Imagining the unforgiving blade in Lecter's hand he swallowed hard before continuing.

"Bloom mentioned to me that he believed you might be an unfit father. He is genuinely concerned that your son is at risk or at least he has _himself_ convinced of his genuine concern. I think he has motives that he isn't willing to admit…Not even to himself."

Graham waited for a response or a reaction from Hannibal but there was no change in his expression. He simply smiled politely and nodded his head. Graham was getting very little feedback and absolutely no emotion from the good doctor and though he had expected as much he found it disconcerting.

"He has always considered himself to be competitive with you on a professional level. I'm curious what you think of him, Doctor Lecter?"

"Think of him professionally? He is a small man whose professional reach has exceeded his talents. Had I not promised Clarice that I would refrain from my previous habits, I would have paid him a visit by now. Needless to say he would not have enjoyed being in my company and the stay would have been brief. Excruciatingly brief. "

Graham loosened his tie. His heart pounded as he imagined being flat on his back with Hannibal moving like a panther over him. The room began to spin.

Hannibal could see Graham's unease and moved away from him walking quietly across the room. He sat at his desk with his hands clasped, his index fingers steepled. He pressed his fingers to his lips as he waited patiently for Graham to continue speaking. Hannibal then nodded as if acknowledging that he was prepared for Graham to proceed.

Hannibal's silence encouraged Graham to continue, though it unnerved him as well. Graham's voice reflected only the slightest tremor but he wasn't self-conscious about it. There was no use trying to hide it. He was well aware that Hannibal could smell the fear on him.

"Of course Pearsall doesn't know a thing about Bloom's intentions. He's as clueless as he ever was. I considered drawing his attention to it but thought as apathetic as Pearsall is…he would give Bloom permission anyway so why waste my breath on him."

Hannibal's mind had already processed a variety of scenarios, alternate options to those scenarios and possible outcomes to each. He had considered taking Clarice back to Argentina to have the baby but knew she would be unhappy with that alternative. It was her first child. She needed to feel safe.

Graham shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He paused and waited.

Hannibal spoke very softly understanding that Graham was uncomfortable placing trust in him. Will was obviously afraid, but he had reached out and was offering key information that he knew would be helpful to Hannibal. Now Hannibal would have to ascertain the motivations behind this assistance.

"What do you think of this, Will? I am curious and would appreciate your opinion," Hannibal questioned, making direct eye contact with Graham.

Graham stared into Hannibal's eyes for a moment. They were softer than he remembered. The maroon irises had a warm glow like low embers of a fire, not the flames of hell conflagration he saw blazing back at him as the linoleum knife did Hannibal's bidding.

Swallowing hard, Will choked back the memory and answered, "You promised me my son would be safe _from_ you. It's only fair that I make sure your son stays safe _with_ you."

"And you have no concerns about my ability to adequately parent my child?" Hannibal tested.

Graham shook his head, "It isn't up to me to decide whether or not you'll be a fit father. My opinion is that Bloom is overreaching his authority and I told him that to his face. I thought as the interested party you had the right to this information."

Hannibal's eyes were intensely focused, like maroon laser beams they scanned Graham for any inconsistencies in his explanation. He stood again and began to pace alongside his desk.

Keeping his back to Graham, Hannibal probed, "And you believed you might be able to use that information to your advantage?"

Will perceived the nuanced question and side stepped the implications, "I believed you had the _right_ to the information. You had the right to know and I wanted…no I _needed_ information as well therefore I considered it an equal exchange. I was not seeking _advantage_ I was seeking _assurances_. You are an intelligent and pragmatic man. As was the case in each of our past associations, I believed you would agree to an exchange of information that would be _mutually _beneficial."

He wheeled around on his heels to face Graham, "That is rather slippery of you, Will."

Hannibal then circled behind Graham and continued talking purposely staying out of the younger man's periphery. Will could hear him and could feel his presence but could not make eye contact and as such could not ascertain Lecter's intentions. Graham's reaction was as Hannibal intended. His heart rate and respirations increased dramatically. Hannibal was somewhat entertained by the stress he was creating.

Seeking to shift the power and throw Graham off balance, Hannibal manipulated his voice. It became raspy as he spoke and now barely registered above a whisper, "You have offered me the information. I have offered you assurances regarding the safety of your family. How can you be certain that I will not go back on my word?" Hannibal questioned with a threatening edge to his voice.

He was emotionally probing Graham…seeking weakness. Seeking some hint that he was being deceptive. Hannibal wanted to be sure that he was not being manipulated in some way. That Graham wasn't a pawn in a larger game.

Graham paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. He continued when he was certain of his position, "What would be the point of that, Doctor? No, you may be a lot of things but you've never been a liar. If you promise me that you have no plans to hurt me or my family I'll take you at your word."

Moving back into Graham's visual field Hannibal leaned in uncomfortably close and hissed in the nervous man's ear, "And as such you expect me to take you at yours?" Hannibal enlisted that metallic hiss, the dungeon voice seeking to shift Graham's mindset from his office back to the basement at Baltimore State.

Though his stomach was quaking from horrifically intrusive memories of Hannibal's hot breath on his neck as the linoleum knife tore his flesh, bravely Will stood his emotional ground.

"Hell from where I'm sitting it looks like I'm the only game in town but if you've gotten a better offer, Doctor Lecter I'd like to hear it."

Hannibal did not respond but stepped back, folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head slightly as he studied Graham carefully. _Righteous indignation Will… You may be telling me the truth after all._

Willing to consider that Graham was being truthful, Hannibal sought to set his mind at ease. He leaned against his desk, his arms still crossed, "I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, Will."

Seeing his discomfort, Hannibal assumed the unusual position of advisee, "I have been considering removing myself from the household. There is virtually no circumstance I can think of by which they can declare Clarice unfit. What are your thoughts?"

"That's true but why should you miss the birth of your first born son? Would you let them take that from you?" Graham's comment was both heartfelt and sincere.

_True…why should I miss the birth of my own son? No… when Bloom shows his cards…I will play my hand. If he moves to take my son…I will take all from him._

"Yes, I guess I must agree. I cannot consider that as it would hurt Clarice far too much and I refuse to cause her a moment's pain. Not for Bloom. Not for anyone."

Hannibal again took the seat behind his desk. He tipped slightly in the large antique leather chair. He appeared confident and was obviously comfortable in this space.

Graham questioned Hannibal's response seeing past the explanation, "I think missing the birth of your child would hurt you as well or are you unwilling to admit that?"

Hannibal was unperturbed by the challenge, "I am perfectly capable of admitting my desire to witness the birth of my child. If you are curious I will also offer to you that I am very much in love with my wife and have equal love for my unborn son. Does it surprise you to hear that?"

Will nodded his head vigorously, "Yes…It surprises me very much."

Hannibal failed to understand why that would be Graham's position, "Why? I am a man, no different than you."

Will laughed out loud at Hannibal's response, "You may be a man but like it or not you're very, very different from other men."

Hannibal was not pleased by Graham's reaction and sought an explanation, "Before I decide whether or not to take offense I would ask that you please clarify your meaning."

Will leaned forward crossing his forearms on his thighs, "I mean absolutely no disrespect. It's a compliment not a criticism. Moral judgment and your criminal history aside your intellect sets you apart. When I'm with you I sometimes feel as if I'm more in the presence of a god than a man and don't take that as an appeal to your intellectual vanity. It's a statement of how I feel. To me you've always come across as being…omnipotent. Frankly you're goddamned scary and incredibly intimidating to be around and yet I see the people you've surrounded yourself with now and I'm shocked."

Hannibal leaned across the desk, "Why is that I wonder?"

"All of your friends are in the F.B.I. your wife was in the F.B.I. It seems you would've had your fill of law enforcement by now." Graham's body language was beginning to show ease…comfort even.

Hannibal shook his head, "Aside from Clarice the person I am closest to in this world is Barney and _he_ isn't in law enforcement."

Will, his confidence growing, tapped his palm on Hannibal's desk to reinforce his point, "No he's in medicine now but he was your goddamned keeper at the asylum. Aren't you seeing a pattern here?"

Hannibal laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in the chair which creaked from the exertion. Hannibal was leading Will to a series of conclusions. He was amused that Will failed to notice.

"You have my attention, Will. _Thrill_ me with your acumen."

Graham sat all the way forward on the edge of his chair, now comfortable enough to rest an arm on Hannibal's desk, "They controlled your life. Now to a great extent, you control theirs. You dominate those who for a time had total dominion over you. They feel familiar with you. They aren't afraid of you. They don't see you as a threat. In that sense you've taken their power from them. Either you are completely cured or you are one brilliant son of a bitch."

Again, Hannibal led him like a bull by a nose ring, "And what is your assessment…your diagnosis of me as it were?"

"I think you're one brilliant son of a bitch."

"Meaning…" Hannibal probed.

"Meaning that I don't think what you had or have can be cured."

"I'm listening…continue."

"You'd have to admit what you did was wrong. You'd have to see it as an aberration."

"Was it wrong?" Hannibal questioned, "Do you believe I see it as such?"

"I don't think you've ever admitted to making a mistake in your life. I don't know why you would now. No, I'm sure you don't see it as being wrong." Graham commented as he watched for a reaction.

Hannibal's expression remained a blank canvas.

"What if I said I would not admit it was a mistake because I did not believe it was? It was a series of choices. Had Clarice been in my life sooner the choices may have been different. She is a magnificent woman and I am humbled in her presence. I will do any and all to keep her."

Graham was fascinated by the relationship between Hannibal and Clarice, "Humbled? I find it hard to believe that you _can_ be humbled. I do believe that you would do almost anything to keep her. Does that include permanently giving up cannibalism?"

Hannibal was decidedly aloof at mention of this normally taboo topic, "That is no great loss. It is a simple dietary restriction…no more, no less. It is a modification to my lifestyle that she requested as one of the requirements of our marriage. It is a very small sacrifice and one that my bride is both deserving of and exceedingly well worth."

Will Graham was assuredly unconvinced.

Hannibal couldn't have cared less what Will believed.

Graham continued, "And killing people? Giving that up too?"

"I would do so now only to protect my wife, my child or to protect my own life. I have killed recently. If it is justifiable, my Clarice finds it acceptable. She would do no less to protect our family."

"A match made in heaven?"

"If there is such a place…Yes, it is."

Hannibal's attention shifted away from Graham. His nostrils flared as he searched the air. He was soon smiling widely, "My wife approaches."

Graham was curious, "How do you know? I don't hear a thing."

"Her scent is quite specific."

"It's true then…you really can identify people by smell?"

"Yes…absolutely."

There was a light tapping on the door, "Hey, H…I'm starving. You can talk some more after lunch."

"Yes, my Love. We will be along presently."

Clarice walked across the room and kissed Hannibal on top of his head. Without another word she left the room, Graham watching the interaction with rapt attention. Hannibal noticed.

"I don't understand how but I love her more with each passing day. She is magnificent, is she not?" he beamed with pride.

"She is…you are a very lucky man, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal stood invigorated from his wife's kiss, walked over to Graham and slapped a hand cheerfully on his back. "Come my friend, it's time for lunch…and Will…"

"Yes Doctor Lecter?"

"Please…Call me Hannibal."

Graham stared blankly at Hannibal. The invitation to address him by his given name caught him totally off guard.

"Okay…Hannibal." Will agreed as he followed Hannibal into the dining room for lunch. He shook his head to himself as he walked.

_This is surreal…absolutely fucking surreal._

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**Until the Next Chapter my Friends!**

**LH**


	77. Chapter 77

**Welcome back my dedicated fan fic friends!**

**Enjoy- LH**

**Taking a Life or Leaving It**

Graham sat at the table with Ardelia as Clarice and Hannibal busied about the kitchen. He was putting the final touches on what appeared to be pork tenderloin, cooling slightly before being cut, while Clarice carried serving dishes into the dining room.

"Hannibal will plate the food but trust me, when you taste it…you'll want more." Clarice scattered the covered dishes across the table.

Graham looked over at Ardelia. She was staring at him and smiling.

Realizing he probably looked overwhelmed Will addressed Ardelia jokingly, "What are you looking at?"

Ardelia smiled and elbowed him playfully, "I'm looking at one relieved white boy who just realized he isn't going to be on the menu!"

"Very funny, Mapp!" he smiled.

Hannibal entered with a crisp white towel folded neatly over his arm carrying two plates. He placed them in front of Graham and Ardelia. Clarice followed carrying two additional plates and placed them.

She took her seat as Hannibal poured the wine. He filled the guest's glasses then placed the bottle on the table. He reached for the crystal water pitcher and filled the glasses as well. He did not pour wine for either Clarice or himself.

"H?"

"Yes my Love?" he questioned placing a kiss on her head before taking his seat.

"Why aren't you having wine?"

"Because we are pregnant and must avoid alcohol."

"_We_ aren't having the baby,_ I'm_ having the baby. You don't have to do without on my account."

"Nonsense Clarice, If you cannot drink I will not drink." Hannibal turned to his guests and raised his water glass. "Please help yourselves my friends. There is no need to stand on ceremony this is an informal gathering."

Ardelia laughed as she sliced through the tenderloin and smiled widely, "I just can't get used to eating this well under a roof where Clarice lives."

"Very funny Dee… You knew I would have to marry a man who was good in the kitchen."

Hannibal winked, "One would hope not only in the kitchen, Clarice."

Clarice slapped him playfully and blushed. "Shut the hell up, H!"

Graham smiled watching the interaction between the two. Clarice adored her husband that much was obvious. Graham was surprised however to see how comfortable Hannibal seemed to be. He was a doting husband and proud father to be much like any happily married man. Gone was the boiling rage that seemed to simmer just below the surface. Gone were the eyes of fire that seared your soul on contact, his gaze warm and friendly now. Graham had no doubt that if threatened the fire would spontaneously combust but for now, there was calm.

Hannibal waited for everyone to begin eating before he reached for his utensils.

Unable to help himself, Graham's heart fluttered when he saw Hannibal reach for his knife.

Hannibal noticed.

"Dear Will, I cannot help but notice you are…uncomfortable. Is there anything I can do for you to set your mind at ease."

Ardelia laughed, "You could promise not to try and kill him again. He's been having a heart attack about it."

"Since when?" Hannibal inquired.

"Since forever," Clarice chimed in.

"That's ridiculous," Hannibal stated. "If I wanted you dead, dear Will you would have been dead. True I did want to incapacitate you, but kill you? No. Though thinking back it would have saved me eight years in that brutish hell hole under the esteemed care of the later Frederick Chilton. Perhaps I should have opened your femoral or your jugular and have been done with you. But then we all would have missed the pleasure of your company today and I would not be married to my lovely wife. I supposed I should thank you, Will. As such I am forever in your debt."

Will shook his head and smiled. He spoke in his most self-deprecating tone, "Don't mention it. Glad I could help."

"Clarice our dear friend Will informs me that Doctor Bloom has intentions of having me declared an unfit father."

Clarice swallowed hard and turned to face Hannibal. "What? Is that true?"

Will was taken off guard and sat perfectly still like a deer frozen in the headlights, unable to respond.

Hannibal, his mouth full of food nodded.

Clarice looked at Graham. Her eyes flashed intensely, "What the hell is going on Will?"

Graham swallowed hard- his heart felt as though it had pounded its way up his esophagus. Looking at the expression on Clarice's face, a mix of rage and incredulity, she was even more frightening than her husband. Graham carefully measured his words, "Bloom called me and asked me to come meet with him about your husband. Pearsall needed to evaluate Hannibal before your meeting. He wanted Bloom's opinion, Bloom wanted mine and Pearsall wanted it on tape."

"The camera on the exit sign." she stated.

"Yeah, I put it there because I knew that either you or Hannibal would see it. I wanted you both to know that you were under surveillance."

"That was an exceptional gesture of trust, Will. It was most appreciated." Hannibal commented as he enjoyed his food. "No doubt Deputy Director Pearsall was most irate when he discovered I relieved Doctor Bloom of the equipment."

"Yeah, I bet he was pissed!" Ardelia added, "Did Pearsall tell Bloom to assess Hannibal's parental fitness?"

Graham shook his head, "No, Bloom's taking it on himself. Thinks he's a mandatory reporter and as such is obligated to look out for the child's welfare."

"One would think he wished not only to claim parenthood but the Right of Droit du Seigneur," Hannibal mused while regarding a piece of asparagus he was about to eat.

"What's droit du seigneur?" Ardelia asked.

"It is a medieval custom allowing the Lord of an estate to claim the virginity of his serf's daughters or female members of his household," Hannibal stated before popping the vegetable in his mouth.

"That backstabbing bastard," Clarice seethed. "When we go in for that meeting H you're gonna agree to meet with that son of a bitch and you're gonna rip him a new asshole."

"Of course, Clarice I will do as you wish. It may serve our purposes better to arrange it so that Doctor Bloom is unable to judge me unfit. I am quite aware of the blunt little tools in his bag of tricks. Rest assured he will not prevail."

"He'll want to record it. You'll have to be prepared for every contingency. If you lose it…they'll have you dead to rights," Graham offered.

"I'd rather let you gut the little prick and eat his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti." Clarice teased.

Hannibal leaned over, nuzzled his nose near her ear and directly against the flesh of her neck and made the dungeon hissing sound she clearly anticipated. The contact tickled so much that she reflexively shrugged her shoulder turned and slapped him playfully, "Even though it tickles I love it when you do that!"

"That is not all you love, Clarice," Hannibal taunted flirtatiously as he claimed a quick kiss.

Ardelia nudged Graham and rolled her eyes in mock irritation, "Get used to it. This goes on all the time. They just can't keep their hands off each other."

He nodded, "Yeah, I can see."

Hannibal paused, appearing pensive.

Clarice noticed and questioned the sudden change. "What's going on, H?"

He took a long drink from his water glass and sighed, "I was considering contingency plans in the event the situation with Bloom does not go in our favor."

"What sort of contingency plans?" Clarice questioned with concern.

Hannibal smoothed his hand across the linen tablecloth as if brushing away confusion, "There are several. None ideal, a fewI am certain you will dismiss out of turn."

"What do you think I will dismiss?" Clarice was clearly curious, "You do know that I will do whatever it takes to keep our family together."

Hannibal reached for another piece of pork from a silver chafing dish as he began to relay his thoughts. "I considered returning to our home in Argentina though I also have property in Italy and Lithuania."

"Lithuania?" Ardelia gasped, "Isn't that one of those Soviet Bloc disasters. I mean don't you have to wait in line for toilet paper there?"

Clarice spoke up vehemently, "Lithuania is _not_ happening, H. Ancestral home or not…I enjoy _indoor _plumbing."

"Don't be so droll Clarice. Would you imagine I would own a home that was so…rustic? It is a lovely country and the property is quite luxurious. When the child is old enough to enjoy it we shall spend time there as well. For now I have a lovely elderly couple maintaining the estate."

"Estate?" Ardelia questioned.

"Yeah…Hannibal's a Count. They can't just live in regular houses like us common folk!"

"Well pardon me for living!" Ardelia laughed.

Graham smiled. He was actually enjoying his time with Hannibal and was glad he worked up the nerve to contact him. He decided he would offer to be of more direct assistance.

"Hannibal…"

The appellation seemed to fumble from his mouth though outwardly there was no misstep. He had referred to Hannibal by his first name in the company of others but somehow the name seemed foreign coming from his lips in front of the man.

"…I'd like to help you prepare for the interview with Bloom. I can try to find out what he's thinking and where he's going to take this. It might be useful to have as much information going in as possible. See how far he's willing to take this."

Hannibal nodded, "Yes…that would be prudent, thank you Will."

Graham smiled. Many years earlier, when he was a young ambitious agent, he sought out the advice of Doctor Hannibal Lecter. He was thrilled when Doctor Lecter, the brilliant psychiatrist took an interest in him and was willing to collaborate. He often looked forward to their meetings, even feeling comfortable enough to arrive unannounced, late at night with questions. He felt welcomed and secure in his presence.

Until the linoleum knife opened his abdomen.

Will flinched at the memory.

Hannibal noticed the twitch and the emotional shift that followed. "Are you quite all right, my friend?"

Graham shook it off, "Yeah…I'm fine thanks."

"No you are certainly not fine, Will. Your respirations are increasing and judging by the dilation of your pupils and your flushed cheeks, I would say that your heart rate has escalated."

Ardelia reached for Graham's wrist and checked his pulse. "Yeah, heart's goin' a million miles an hour."

"No doubt it is a bout with anxiety. I fear I have given you just cause for trepidation in my presence though you did pump several bullets into my body and I am no worse for the wear."

"Don't forget the arrows!" Clarice cajoled.

"Ah…yes the arrows, an entire quiver full if I am not mistaken. Thank goodness my tetanus shots were up to date. They were not exactly hygienic."

"Yeah, sorry about that I had to make do with what was on hand. Beggars can't be choosers."

Hannibal laughed heartily and the sound of it took Graham by surprise. Even before he knew of Hannibal's predilection for murder and cannibalism he had considered him a thoughtful but never a jovial man. Now, in his own home beside his pregnant wife, Hannibal was just that.

Hannibal noticed Will's attention to him and raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong Will?"

"No not at all. You seem like such a happy man."

"Look at my wife. She is perfection. No, I am more than merely happy Will. I am ecstatic. If ever there was a more contented man on this earth I would like to meet him."

Graham was pleased, "Well…I'm glad for you both…you wear it well."

"Thanks Will." Clarice was genuine in her appreciation. She was thrilled that Hannibal was finally surrounded by people he trusted. She understood more than anyone how difficult it was for him to offer his trust. For the first time in his life her husband had no secrets.

Everyone knew exactly who and what he was and those within his circle of friends fully accepted him. There hung above him no cloud of suspicion, nor threat of discovery. He was comfortable.

Comfort warms a man. It also weakens him. Hannibal Lecter was about to be tested. Somewhere deep inside, Clarice knew this to be true and she was mortally afraid for him.

Hannibal too knew the test would come. And as he had done so many times before when given the choice between taking a life or leaving it- he alone would choose. He hoped Clarice would understand.

**Thanks for reading! Review and let me know what you think then drop me a pm and say hi! **

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	78. Chapter 78

**WELCOME BACK MY FAITHFUL FRIENDS**

**JUMPING THROUGH HOOPS**

Clarice woke conspicuously early the morning of Hannibal's meeting with Pearsall.

Hannibal didn't question her leaving the bed as she often got up to use the bathroom. The baby seemed to find the most inopportune times to situate directly on her bladder therefore early morning bathroom trips were becoming the norm. He became concerned when Clarice did not return to bed. He showered, dressed and followed the scent of brewing tea to the kitchen.

Hannibal entered to see Clarice sitting at the table sipping a cup of chamomile. He moved behind his wife and bent to kiss her. After placing the gentlest of kisses on her cheek he whispered softly in her ear, "I grew worried when you did not return to our bed, Clarice. Are you ill?"

Clarice trilled a teaspoon nervously against the china tea cup, "No… I'm okay, H. Sorry to worry you. I'm just…pent up."

Without speaking Hannibal pulled his wife against his body and stretched her back allowing her spine to pop and crack releasing the tension gripping her.

"Oh, H…that's awesome…mmmm," she responded with near breathless appreciation as she shrugged and rolled her shoulders to work out the kinks.

Feeling the tension Hannibal massaged her deltoids drawing his thumbs upward in small circles to knead her weary body. His touch was firm as he sought to work the knots and strains from her muscles. It was his most fervent desire to care for his wife. Stubborn and independent she rarely pampered herself therefore he often found it necessary to attend to her needs knowing she was neglectful.

"May I prepare your breakfast? I can make an egg white omelet with some fresh vegetables perhaps."

Clarice set the spoon aside and leaned her body into his, resting her shoulders against his stomach. She tilted her head upward to make eye contact, "I don't really feel like eating."

Hannibal leaned over and kissed her forehead. His voice was smooth and gentle, "You may not my Love, but the child requires it."

Clarice sighed as she reluctantly conceded to her husband, "_Fine_. Do we at least have broccoli?"

"Yes, of course. Eggs whites and fresh broccoli…would you like me to add a bit of cheese?"

"That would be great. Cheddar if we have it." Appreciating his attention Clarice reached back and rubbed her hands up and down Hannibal's legs. "It's so sweet how much you worry about me. I want you to know that it means a lot to me."

"You mean everything to me Clarice. I will do any and all to insure your health and that of our child." He bowed his body, kissed her forehead and after smoothing his palms across her shoulders left her reluctantly to prepare her food.

Clarice studied Hannibal's demeanor as he moved about the kitchen. He seemed confident and relaxed; the antithesis of her current emotional state. She coveted his calm.

Adoring her husband more each day Clarice smiled at his tranquil demeanor, "How the hell do you do it, H?"

Hannibal was heating a pan and assembling his ingredients. He listened to Clarice but attended to the job at hand. He questioned while cracking and separating the eggs, "Are you referring to my meal preparation or do you have something else on your mind?"

"I'm referring to the fact that we have a meeting in four hours with Pearsall. He'll be judging you…he'll be making decisions that affect our future. If he thinks you're a couple of fries short of a happy meal they're going to try and get an arrest warrant on the deaths of Nico and that bitch you took out in the shower."

Hannibal cracked the eggs, separated the yolks into a different bowl and whisked the egg whites quickly with a fork. With a flourish he added salt and pepper to the mixture.

Given the contentious nature of the subject Hannibal spoke with an exceptionally eerie calm, "They may arrest me. They may imprison me but I can assure you with all confidence that the odds of a conviction would be miniscule. The physical damage I endured before I had been able to free myself was far too extensive. It would be obvious to any and all, especially given my age, that it would not have been long before my body succumbed to the injuries. An attorney with even the most limited skills would prevail."

Clarice watched as Hannibal tossed the pan sending small pieces of fresh broccoli tumbling in the air and into the pan repeatedly.

"H they don't need a _conviction_. They only need to convince a judge that you're a flight risk in order to hold you without bond. With all of the property you own around the world it wouldn't take much convincing. How well do you think you'd do if they tossed you in prison again?"

Hannibal added the eggs and swirled the pan assuring they cooked evenly. He tilted the pan flipped the broccoli into the center, added cheese and folded the eggs. All the while he continued to talk about a possible incarceration as if discussing the weather.

"If I were certain of _your _safety my status would be of little consequence to me. It matters little where my body is held as I am able to place my mind elsewhere. It would be inconvenient but temporary."

"How long do you think it would be before you cracked? How long could you take it?"

"Indefinitely though I would not fare well knowing that you were alone. I would become quite agitated if the birth of the child approached and the circumstances had not been resolved. Bloom would know that I am exceedingly patient and would not recommend they attempt to wait me out. The odds are much more likely that they would attempt to draw me into a physical conflict."

Hannibal plated the omelet and carried it to Clarice. He then moved to slice and juice oranges.

Clarice picked up the fork to take a bite but paused as she processed Hannibal's last comment, "Why would they do that?"

Hannibal smiled as he walked across the room and placed a glass of the juice in front of her. He seemed almost amused as if the answer was something that should have naturally occurred to her, "Because Clarice that would give them enough reason to _kill_ me."

Clarice reached back and smacked his backside, "Jesus Christ, H that isn't funny! Don't say that!"

Standing quietly beside her as yet unconcerned he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"Saying a thing or not saying a thing will not alter the outcome. Whatever is to happen, will happen."

Clarice waved her fork at Hannibal before returning to her omelet, "Don't give me that Que sera sera crap!"

"Call it what you will your angst does not modify the situation. You must realize that no matter how much emotion you heap on a subject you will not affect the outcome. You are carrying our baby Clarice. Do not let outside influences affect your emotions. Trust that I will protect our family. You must as well."

"I know you'll protect us H and of course I trust you. I just don't get how you stay so unemotional."

Hannibal sat beside his wife and answered her dispassionately, "I am quite emotional. I just do not see the point in becoming _overly_ emotional. Nor do I feel the need to illuminate my emotional state as if it were a neon sign on constant display."

Clarice chugged the orange juice and placed the glass on the table as if she had just tossed back a shot accenting her words, "Yeah well we don't all have your epic self-control."

"Not to worry Clarice. Allow me to will run a bath for you. After you have had a bit of time to relax we will ready ourselves for the meeting with Deputy Director Pearsall. Perhaps if we put our heads together we can decide together on an acceptable course of action."

Clarice mumbled sarcastically as she stuffed another bite in her mouth, "I was thinking the Harpy would handle that nicely."

"Do not tempt me my Love. It has been quite some time since I exercised that particular pleasure. I would find it most satisfying to clean Pearsall's blood from that blade."

"Better save it for Bloom," she answered finishing the last forkful of her breakfast.

Hannibal replied with a wink, "As you wish, Clarice…As you wish."

**THE MEETING**

Clarice and Hannibal waited in a small reception area waiting for Ardelia, Logan and Bowman. Barney had to work a double shift at the hospital so he provided a detailed affidavit attesting to everything he witnessed.

Ardelia and Clarice had spent quite a lot of time with Barney to be certain all of their descriptions were identical. Barney then went to a notary public and after providing identification, signed the paperwork and had the detailed account of Hannibal's torment certified.

"Hey is this where the party is?" Logan boomed as he entered the room.

"Oh yea…if by party you mean goddamned inquisition," Clarice commented with ample helpings of sarcasm.

"Make an effort not to be tedious Clarice…" Hannibal spoke quietly, "…defensive behavior denotes guilt. We have no need of it here."

Ardelia and Bowman followed. Ardelia put an arm around her best friend, "Hey, y'all ready for the meeting?"

"Ready as we'll ever be," Clarice answered, looking to Hannibal for moral support.

Hannibal's voice was solid. He hoped to inspire his wife's confidence, "Yes…we are quite prepared."

Logan dropped unceremoniously onto the sofa, "This is a bunch of bullshit isn't it? What do you think Bowmeister… a freaking steaming pile of bullshit right?"

Lloyd nodded, "Massive bullshit!"

Logan continued, "So…what the hell are we all doing here anyway. A goddamned blind man could see it was a case of self-defense. Why all the jumping through freaking hoops?"

"Because two dead bodies in the company of a known serial killer are cause for concern," Pearsall chimed in as he entered the room.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me with that serial killer crap?" Clarice raged.

"Get over yourself Starling. It's not like it isn't true."

Hannibal stepped defensively in front of Clarice and quickly closed the distance between he and Pearsall. His instantaneous proximity engaged Pearsall's sweat glands.

"Please mind your manners, Sir. I would ask that you remember my wife, _Mrs. Lecter_, is now seven months pregnant with our child. Be assured that I will take offense if she is made to be upset in any way."

Hannibal's eyes were sparking as if flames licked the edges of the pupils. His simmering rage was obvious, the evidence of which was now the immediate cause of Pearsall's regret.

The hair on Pearsall's neck stood on end. He was in danger and he knew it.

Hannibal processed the incoming stimuli. He could smell the fear pouring from Pearsall. His mind quickly measured the distance between himself and the offensive deputy director. Hannibal assessed that he was within striking distance so he rubbed the cuff of his hand against his hip and felt the shape of the Harpy.

The security guard who wanded Hannibal at the checkpoint did not discover the small knife, falsely assuming Hannibal's ornate cufflinks had set off the metal detector.

Hannibal found security knowing he could access the weapon. He stood uncommonly still and waited for Pearsall's next move. Hannibal decided that if Pearsall chose to insult Clarice again that would be a mistake and it would be Pearsall's last.

**Review and tell me what you think, them pm and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	79. Chapter 79

**Welcome back my friends!**

**HANNIBAL'S FRIEND**

Logan stepped between Hannibal and Pearsall. He placed a hand on Hannibal's shoulder as if displaying publicly precisely on which side of the line in the sand he stood. Logan was firmly with Hannibal. He faced off with Pearsall.

"Dude, why would you talk to Clarice like that? It's…it's disrespectful. She's a lady."

Pearsall stood deadly still as if the lack of movement would in some way make him invisible to Hannibal thus protecting him. Hannibal's eyes and his anger remained focused on Pearsall. Pearsall surveyed the room.

_No friends here. They're all with him. What the fuck is wrong with this picture!_

With the lethal patience of a boa constrictor, Hannibal Lecter waited watching Pearsall's struggle.

Logan continued, "We're all waiting for you to apologize to Clarice…she's Mrs. Hannibal Lecter now, not Clarice Starling…she's not an agent. You can't talk to her like she's crap the way you always talked to her before."

Pearsall looked at Hannibal for a flash of a second, and quickly looked away as if contact with Hannibal's eyes burned him or in some way transmitted a highly communicable disease.

_He passed through metal detectors so he probably doesn't have a weapon, but he didn't have one when he attacked that nurse…Christ what am I talking about…__**he's**__ a weapon._

Aware of the precarious nature of his situation the Deputy Director struggled to find the words that might extricate him.

Hannibal was still staring directly at Pearsall. His brilliant mind had already processed several possible courses of action and the ramifications of each. There was no way he could continue to challenge Pearsall without appearing dangerous. The consequences would be swift and unyielding.

The precise moment his mind chose inaction, Hannibal's eyes blinked quickly, like the nictitating membrane sliding across the eyes of a snake. This physical process instantly disconnected any emotion attaching Hannibal to the incident. Upon the reopening of his eyes it was as if a switch had been flipped. His attention shifted from Pearsall to Clarice.

Concern filled her eyes.

Hannibal's spark of molten rage cooled instantly much like a white hot branding iron steams to solidity when dipped in cold water. Hannibal Lecter's state of mind often shifted that way, from the anger of molten ore to steely resolve of forged iron. Hannibal turned his back to Pearsall and took his place beside Clarice. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. Her way of letting him know she appreciated his defense of her, but recognized his self-discipline.

Though his face remained as fixed as granite upon feeling his wife's pride, somewhere very deep within himself Hannibal Lecter smiled.

It was unusual for him to speak without making eye contact though he did precisely that. Clearly dismissing Pearsall out of turn, facing Clarice, Hannibal gave Pearsall his back as he spoke.

"Do not waste your breath on an apology Deputy Director. My wife and I need nothing from you, least of all your feigned penitence."

Pearsall circled Logan and approached Hannibal and Clarice. He was terrified but knew his credibility hinged on his manners in this instance.

"Doctor Lecter…Clarice…"

Hannibal's head spun and his eyes flashed rage at the uninvited familiarity, Pearsall stepped back quickly, clearly terrified. "Doctor Lecter…_Mrs. Lecter_, please…allow me to apologize for my rudeness. I shouldn't have been that…blunt.

"Or that _familiar_, Deputy Director Pearsall," Hannibal hissed through clenched teeth.

Pearsall's heart danced within his chest, "Or that…familiar, Doctor Lecter. Please, I'm very sorry."

Hannibal looked to Clarice for a response. Clarice nodded. Hannibal answered for them both, "Your apology is accepted, Mr. Pearsall."

Pearsall released the breath he had been holding and directed the group to the large conference room next to his office. The assemblage took their seats with Pearsall at one of the end of the large table and Hannibal at the far end.

Pearsall began the interviews, "I called this meeting to clarify the events that took place several weeks ago. Does anyone have any statements they would like to make or any additions to their initial reports?"

Ardelia started things off, "Sir, if I might…Why in the name of sweet Jesus are we here? We, each of us were interviewed several times by the Office of Professional Responsibility the Justice Department, the local Police Department…you get the point. Anyway, it's obvious the deaths were justifiable. Excuse the pun but what's the point in beating this to death?"

Pearsall sat looking at the table debating whether or not to be honest. Knowing that he had already lost trust by insulting Clarice, Pearsall decided he should probably be truthful.

_Hannibal detected the camera Bloom and Graham placed. He's always ahead, always prepared. I'll just fuck this up if I lie. Let's see where this goes. It's not like he can kill me in front of everyone._

"I understand that Doctor Lecter is more than just a genius. The reports from his incarceration say his mind processes several trains of thought simultaneously and autonomously and I'll be honest… I can barely remember what I had for dinner last night so I'm not going to insult everyone here by operating under false pretenses."

Pearsall relented not only to acquire trust but also because he did not have the resources, the energy or the inclination to attempt to trap Hannibal Lecter. Not to mention that Hannibal had already gotten to Pearsall's daughter once. The first time, Hannibal surreptitiously pinned a note to the child's jacket. The next time he might not reach for a safety pin, he might reach for the Harpy to pierce her heart. Pearsall didn't want to give Hannibal Lecter a reason to get to his daughter a second time.

No one spoke. Hannibal simply tilted his head to the side and regarded Pearsall searching for any sign of deception. _Where are you going with this Mr. Pearsall?_

"As I said, Doctor Lecter, out of respect for your wife and with respect for your intellect I'm not going to insult you by making up a lame excuse for bringing you here. I need you to agree to meet with Doctor Alan Bloom."

Hannibal moved very slowly as he processed the information. Pearsall seemed to be presenting an honest request. Hannibal needed more information and wondered how much Pearsall would be willing to offer. "What possible motivation would I have for doing so?" Hannibal inquired staring directly into Pearsall's eyes.

"I'm assuming since you own that property in Baltimore outright that you want to feel welcome to return to this area at your leisure. In order to insure that, the Justice Department and the White House want you psychologically evaluated."

"I have already been psychologically evaluated in order to satisfy the needs of the White House," Hannibal reminded.

Pearsall nodded, "Yes…well we all know that was merely a rubber stamp. No one wanted to chance that Bloom wouldn't clear you. We needed to secure the safety of the Bashandi girl and you weren't living in the States then. You also hadn't recently killed two people either. Makes the President a little twitchy, you know?"

"Yes, well…what doesn't make the President twitchy? So, I am to be assessed by the _esteemed_ Doctor Alan Bloom?" Hannibal continued.

"Why the hell would Hannibal agree to be mind-fucked by Bloom?" Clarice argued.

"Because if he doesn't, they'll revoke his passport and they'll bring him up on murder charges for those twisted sons of bitches he killed."

"He only killed one of them. I got the other," Clarice asserted.

Pearsall leaned across the table with his palms flat on the surface, "Before or after he tore the male victim's heart out of his chest?"

Not a one of them spoke.

"A bit of advice, the next time you shoot a couple of holes in someone to cover up evidence of a crime obliterate the organ fully. We lifted several prints from the heart…_Doctor Lecter's_ fingerprints."

Ardelia spoke up, "Doesn't matter who killed the bastard. The only way to save Hannibal's life was to kill Nico. Any jury would see the deaths were justified."

Pearsall did not disagree, "Even if the deaths are judged to be justified they're still…disturbing. The powers that be want to be certain Doctor Lecter poses no risk to the public at large. Aside from you Doctor Lecter, Bloom is the best in the field."

"Bloom is the best in the field? My, how the herd has thinned," Hannibal remarked sarcastically.

Bowman, who had been quiet to this point, raised a questioning hand, "What are the standards by which Dr. Lecter will be judged?"

Pearsall raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"What exactly are they evaluating? What are they judging? What tests will they be administering?" Bowman pursued, "If you are asking Doctor Lecter to subject himself voluntarily, it would be negligent not to ask exactly how and what you are testing?"

"How the hell should I know? I was leaving that up to Bloom. He's the expert."

"Actually, Doctor Lecter is the expert," Ardelia added. "I don't understand what the upside would be for Hannibal or Clarice to agree to participate."

"He gets to stay out of jail." Pearsall answered Ardelia directly.

"You are intimating that if I do not agree to this testing, I will be taken into custody?" Hannibal questioned.

"Yes. If you don't agree to the interviews the Prosecutor has been asked to bring charges." Pearsall confirmed.

Hannibal immediately focused on the plurality, "_Interviews_? Are you suggesting there is to be more than one meeting?"

"There will be as many meetings as is required to determine your…" Pearsall's words braked in his mouth.

"My _what_," Hannibal challenged knowing the answer but forcing Pearsall to verbalize it.

"Your… sanity, Doctor Lecter." Pearsall responded, very carefully removing any insinuation from his tone. He continued in earnest, "Whether you choose to believe it or not, I'm not your goddamned enemy. I'm trying to be a _friend_ here."

Hannibal sat very quietly with his hands unmoved on the table. He looked at Pearsall and considered the man carefully. Again he blinked much like the shutter flicking quickly across a camera lens.

Hannibal Lecter's face remained a blank canvas on which Pearsall painted his fears.

"Deputy Director, I would like to speak with you privately."

"Privately…like with your wife as well?" Pearsall's lower lip trembled with the query.

"No…privately…we two, alone," Hannibal corrected.

Pearsall did not respond. Hannibal could smell the scent of fear begin to churn from the man.

Pearsall's mind sought an excuse. Any excuse. "Do you keep secrets from your wife Doctor Lecter?"

"My wife and I share everything. She knows things about me that would terrify most women however she is not most women. She is absolutely singular. No we have no secrets. I was offering you the gesture of privacy."

"I don't need privacy." Pearsall stated as boldly as possible attempting to mask his quivering stomach and quaking bowels.

"It is not only an offer of privacy. It is an extension of trust. My friends would have no problem being alone in a room with me. You say that you are trying to be my friend. I am attempting to take you at your word. Would you allow that? Do you _trust _me my friend?"

Pearsall's heart began to flop around in his ribcage like a dying fish tossed on a dock. The panic in his eyes evident to all, he sat for a moment and thought about his options. If he said yes, he could earn some trust, though Hannibal could attack. No…Hannibal wouldn't attack with so many people involved. Not with Clarice nearby.

"I'll allow it, Doctor. I tr…trust you." Pearsall stated with as much conviction as he could bolster, hoping the stammer went unnoticed.

Hannibal nodded and one by one each of his friends stood and left the room. Clarice remained standing next to her chair for a moment longer. She wagged a finger at Hannibal.

"You play nice now, H."

Hannibal held a hand up in acknowledgement, "Of course my Love."

"Do you have it with you?"

"Always."

"Keep it in your pants."

"Not presently, though I understand the sentiment and will show restraint."

The Deputy Director correctly assumed they spoke of the Harpy. The thought of the weapon let slip his anxieties, Pearsall's courage and resolve now as tenuous as a dried leaf twitching on a wind whistled bough.

Clarice looked over at Pearsall. He had a wise mouth but he had never stabbed her in the back. He faced her each and every time. She thought she owed him an out if he needed it. "You okay Mr. Pearsall? It's just us. If you aren't comfortable, we understand. Hannibal is an acquired taste. It takes people a while to warm up to him."

"Yes, as you might expect, cannibalism carries a bit of a stigma in certain social circles," Hannibal joked.

Pearsall answered Clarice as he laughed nervously at the absurdity of Hannibal's comment, "I'm fine, Mrs. Lecter."

Clarice looked at Hannibal, understanding her question without her need to pose it he nodded. She turned back to Pearsall and spoke softly, "Clint, you know me… you can call me Clarice."

Pearsall smiled, "Okay, thanks Clarice."

Clarice smiled, "I'll let you two men talk then."

Clarice wagged a finger at Hannibal, "You just behave yourself, H."

"Of course, as you wish my Love."

Clarice smiled and left the two men alone.

As the door closed, Hannibal leaned over his folded hands and studied Pearsall closely. Amused at the level of fear he breathed deeply and ingested the anxiety. Hannibal smiled to himself swearing that, upon the closing of the door, he could actually detect the moment that terror gripped causing Pearsall's sphincter to tighten.

_Let's see what you have behind those eyes, Clint. Are you a brave man or a fearful man? _

Pearsall's breath held as he shifted his attention from the closed door to the monster he was trapped with. Hannibal was Danger. Pearsall was Fear. Anxiety and Anger too collided across the table like the gnarled racks of rams crashing against one another.

Hannibal stood and moved toward Pearsall, his head low as he stalked across the room.

Pearsall sat like the Sphinx staring forward, watching as Hannibal approached. He hoped to leave the room with Hannibal's agreement.

He prayed to leave the room with his life. Pearsall's heart raced because he knew something Hannibal Lecter knew all too well. Prayers are rarely answered.

**Thanks for sticking with the story! Review and let me know what you think then PM and say Hi! **

**Until the next chapter my friends **

**LH**


	80. Chapter 80

**Welcome back to No More a Savage Life: Chapter Two! My thanks to those who have either favorited or reviewed this fic. You are appreciated more than I can say. LH**

**GUARANTEES**

Hannibal slowly lowered himself on the chair to the immediate left of Pearsall. The good doctor could feel the aura of anxiety as he took the seat. Though he would have loved nothing more than to slip the Harpy from his sleeve and slice the jugular of the offensive man he took a different tack. He eyed Pearsall with the specific desire to manipulate the ground rules for the inevitable meeting with Bloom.

Hannibal angled the chair and leaned in, intensifying the Deputy Director's discomfort with his proximity. "Mr. Pearsall, we have met on several occasions and during each interaction, you have been rude to my wife. I would like to understand the dynamic. Is there some explanation to this behavior, perhaps a situation of which I am unaware?" His voice reflected intellectual curiosity, belying the sensitivity of the subject.

Pearsall rolled his eyes not wanting to continue this conversation. He didn't believe it would be in his best interest to further antagonize this monster of a man, if even he was man at all.

"Doctor Lecter, I apologized for my behavior and you have my assurance that I won't repeat it but I really don't want to get into the motivations."

Hannibal nodded, pushed the chair back along the tiled floor and moved very slowly and stood over Pearsall, "Well then, it seems nothing more need be said. I thank you for your time."

Pearsall held up his hands in desperate protestation, "Wait…please."

"Wait for what, Mr. Pearsall? If we are not going to be honest with one another, why would I waste my time? You have offered your friendship. I am willing to accept that generous offer and extend my friendship to you as well. What I am not willing to do is waste my time. I can be a very dedicated friend. I can also be quite a ruthless enemy. While I am not suggesting that you should fear me, I will suggest that you should take me seriously. I do not make this offer to you lightly. You may rest assured I will not offer it a second time."

Hannibal paused for a moment and again took his seat. Seeking to intimidate just slightly, strictly for his own entertainment, he stretched his back comfortably, and spanned his muscular arms. As he breathed deeply, his chest fully expanded. He shook his muscles like a bear shakes off water.

Pearsall was surprised at the breadth of the older man's chest. Not a large man Hannibal was said to be deceptively strong and based on his wiry musculature Pearsall saw no reason to question that assessment. Hannibal's hands were also unusually large in comparison to his body.

Pearsall surveyed the doctor's body and noticed the scar where the extra middle finger had been removed. Hannibal, in Pearsall's estimation was a sleek, compact, killing machine. He did not want to test Lecter's strength or his resolve. His mind searched for an acceptable course of action.

_Unless panic can be considered a viable plan, I've got nothing. _

Pearsall looked into Hannibal's deep maroon eyes surveying the monster's intention. He was surprised that he did not see the glowing wild orbs of a madman but eyes that were clear, shining with intelligence and decidedly neutral. The sharp edge to Hannibal's voice seemed honed with honesty, not anger. Hannibal declared his desire for friendship. Incredible as the offer seemed, at that moment and with no better information than that of his own senses, Pearsall decided to take Hannibal at his word.

"Believe me I really do value your offer of friendship Doctor Lecter. I'd like to think I can be honest with you but to tell you the truth…I'm a little terrified. If you can assure me that your reaction to my honesty won't be anger I'll tell you anything you want to know but you'll have to give me your guarantee because you're not gonna like my answers to some of your questions."

Hannibal pressed his palms together as if in prayer and tapped them to his lips. He was both silent and observant while considering Pearsall's request.

The Deputy Director squirmed and sweated under Hannibal's intense scrutiny. Pearsall realized that he was about to play an emotional chess match with a grand master knowing he himself held only pawns. "Clarice told me you never lie so I'll need your guarantee, Doctor…Your word of honor as a gentleman."

Hannibal opened his hands and clapped them together loudly. When his palms slapped, Pearsall jumped causing the doctor to smile inwardly at the reaction he was producing. Hannibal was charged with anticipation, the process going far better than planned. There was excitement in his voice, "Yes. You have my word that I will absolutely accept your honesty without anger or threat of reproach."

Pearsall leaned back in his chair as if trying to separate himself more fully from Hannibal. He spoke slowly, cautiously, "The reason I have been less than polite to Clarice is because when I see her…I feel…inadequate…as if I've failed."

Hannibal's eyebrow arched. His nostrils flared widely. _No deception._

"Please continue. How would the sight of my wife elicit that response?"

Pearsall stalled, "Because…that night…the fourth of July… I should have kept her with me…she wanted me to deputize her and I refused. I told her to go home. I should have known she wouldn't."

Hannibal realized that he had never asked Clarice the facts of that afternoon. He was now overwhelmingly curious about the events that led her to him. "Why would she ask to be deputized?"

Pearsall twisted in the chair. He couldn't see any good coming from this conversation other than earning Hannibal's respect, potentially his friendship.

_Hannibal Lecter would be a good friend to have._

Pearsall took a deep breath, deciding that was as good a reason as any to risk his life. He proceeded cautiously as if maneuvering his way through a mine field.

"Your wife had been relieved of duty pending an investigation because she never turned in the postcard you sent her."

Hannibal cocked his head at an unnatural angle rotating it like an owl as he searched his flawless memory.

_Could I have forgotten? No…no there was no post card. Not recently anyway._

Hannibal shook his head adamant as he gave voice to his memory, "I did not send Clarice a post card. Letters, drawings, yes…A post card, no. Not during the time of that investigation."

It was obvious to Pearsall that Hannibal indeed had no idea what he was talking about. The thought of it disturbed the Deputy Director.

_Who found that evidence? Someone brought it in to Noonan? Paul Krendler…Holy shit Clarice was right! _

It was now dawning on Pearsall that the F.B.I. had been duped by Krendler. The realization did not come quickly like a lightning bolt from the sky. Instead, it evolved slowly, like a florescent tube beginning to hum to light. It was becoming more and more obvious how dirty Krendler had been and how much that had affected Clarice's career. Her anger and resentment now had a face…Paul Krendler's face.

"Never… Not once?" Pearsall investigated, incredulous to now realize that the evidence must have been planted by Krendler.

"No, most definitely not at that time," Hannibal confirmed with conviction.

Pearsall looked deep within his coffee mug as if he had been reading tea leaves and uncovered a revelation within them. The realization of Krendler's corruption and the intrinsic immorality of the entire situation angered him.

"Well then no wonder she was so pissed…she was relieved of duty for no reason."

"There was a palpable reason, Mr. Pearsall. To line the pockets of Paul Krendler and to aid Mason Verger in his twisted revenge scenario. It may not have been a noble reason but was a reason nonetheless. Pity your agency was complicit, without your knowledge of course."

Pearsall shook his head as he sipped his now cooled beverage. He winced at the bitterness of both the coffee and his regret.

"If I had kept her with me…she would have never gone to that farm. I should have known as headstrong as she is that she would go after you. I should have kept her with me. I should have insisted."

Hannibal was heartened by Pearsall's concern for Clarice. He wondered how honest Pearsall was prepared to be. Quietly he tested the waters, "If she had never gone to that farm I may or may not have survived."

Pearsall responded immediately, a signal to Hannibal that he was being honest. He hadn't the time to construct an adequate fabrication to appease.

"No you would most likely be dead but she would still be an agent. She had talent. She was in her element here. Nothing personal because I know you are a brilliant man but your death at that point would have been not great loss to society. The F.B.I. losing Clarice was a fucking tragedy."

Hannibal rubbed the cuff containing the hidden Harpy up and down his thigh growing more irritated with each passing minute, "Knowing nothing of our relationship you have judged our union and concluded not only that the world would be a much better place without me in it but that Clarice has thrown her life away on me?"

Hannibal found himself wondering if presented with his obvious distaste for the subject, Pearsall would relent. To his credit, Pearsall stuck to his proverbial guns.

"She'd put a lot of people behind bars. She'd saved a lot of lives. That's worthwhile. Now she does what? Cooks and cleans for you?"

Hannibal was irritated at the insinuation that Clarice was no more than his servant, "For your information, I cook all of our meals and we clean the home together. Clarice is my wife, my lover, and my friend, _not_ my servant. Her focus now is bringing a child into the world. What is more worthwhile than that?"

Pearsall was concerned at the reaction his next comment would garner but he spoke it anyway, "She's bringing _your_ child into the world. I don't know whether that would qualify as being worthwhile."

Hannibal's Harpy warmed under his cuff heated by the palpable rise in his anger. He spoke directly, careful to remove any upset from the timbre of his voice, "She is bringing _our _child into the world. What is your actual concern? Are you suggesting that because my DNA is involved the child will be in some way deficient?"

"I guess it's possible. I don't know why you kill, Doctor. I don't know if you have an organic aberration or if your deviance is based on some kind of trauma or both. Maybe you're just entertained by it…who knows. I'm just concerned that there's the possibility your son could inherit your predisposition to violence."

"Nature verses nurture, Deputy Director?"

_Nothing happened to me, Agent Starling. I happened._

"Yeah, I guess. Let's be honest…you've helped the Agency on several occasions and you've been responsible for saving countless lives. As far as I'm concerned, you should have gotten a medal for that freak show you dispatched. It's possible you'll never kill again. I think Clarice is a strong enough motivation to quell that urge. If it even is an urge. To tell you the truth, if the only people you kill are wastes of society like Nico and Emilia, I don't much care. Unfortunately, with elections on the horizon, the White House does."

Hannibal's voice took on a modified hiss, "And how does it feel to be the personal Piss-Boy of the current administration? I wonder how much spray back you are forced to tolerate slogging the bucket of their waste around. Doing the underhanded bidding of the political machine is not a goal of most law enforcement professionals. I would think the ammonia filled stench rising in your nostrils and rolling over the back of your tongue would leave quite a bad taste in your mouth."

Pearsall flinched at the directness and accuracy of Hannibal's comments as the lunging observations found their mark piercing his integrity. Honesty being a double edged sword he was now on the receiving end of the injury.

"I don't blame you for being bitter, Doctor Lecter. I'm not happy about this either. I mean I don't appreciate being placed in the position of threatening your freedom to achieve _their_ end. Not exactly the Justice system I took an oath to defend. Not to mention the fact that the abuse of power by the Executive Branch tosses the idea of Checks and Balances right out the goddamned window."

Hannibal floated a palm over the table, considering Pearsall's statement. Pearsall was separating from the bureaucracy of the agency. He was obviously not corrupt.

_You are not as institutionalized as I anticipated and may be capable of independent thought, Mr. Pearsall. That is quality that could prove quite useful. Your friendship may be more valuable than I initially suspected._

"I appreciate your honesty, Deputy Director. It is unusual to have a man possess the strength of character to face me directly and speak his mind. It is a trait I both value and admire."

At that statement, Pearsall's heartbeat slowed just a bit, the panic waning. "I'm sorry to have been so blunt; I told you that you wouldn't like all of my answers."

Hannibal's voice reflected an understanding of Pearsall's situation as he sought to clarify his own.

"Your answers are _your_ reality. They do not have to become mine therefore it isn't my place to either like or dislike them. I appreciate that you are concerned for Clarice. I assure you she is more than happy and that together we have a wonderful life. She has brought me love and a peace that I didn't think possible. It is my hope that I have enriched her life as well. I invite you to visit our home. It may set your mind at ease. Your wife is of course welcome as well."

Pearsall shook his head, "I don't know how she would feel about that."

Hannibal continued, "We are having a dinner next Saturday with a few of our close friends. I will have an invitation delivered to you therefore you may discuss it with your wife and R.S.V.P. with either your acceptance or your regrets. As to your request, and putting my own safety aside, I am going to trust that as my friend you would not ask me to do something that would in some way harm my wife, or my child. Am I correct in that assumption?"

Pearsall was certain. He could trust this man at least for now. There was no danger.

"Yeah, you're correct. I wouldn't ask you to do something that might hurt Clarice or your baby and contrary to perception, I don't want to see you injured either Doctor Lecter."

"You have decided that you are my indeed my friend, then?" Hannibal asked, watching carefully for Pearsall's reaction.

Pearsall affirmed, "Yes, Doctor Lecter. I promise you that I _am _your friend."

Hannibal drove hard to the heart of the matter.

"And if Doctor Bloom's actions are contrary to best psychological practices or if he has an agenda other than this particular evaluation, as my friend you would…?"

"I'd toss him out on his intellectual ass!" Pearsall stated with the conviction of a man who would not be duped twice.

"Yes, I do in fact believe that is the portion of his anatomy wherein his ego-addled brain in fact resides." Hannibal laughed.

Hannibal extended a hand to Pearsall. Pearsall took his hand and grasped it firmly in an attempt to match Hannibal's impressive grip. It was a valiant if less than successful effort.

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

"Please…my friends call me Hannibal."

"Mine call me Clint," he continued to shake hands, "So…you'll meet with Doctor Bloom…Hannibal?"

"Yes, my friend. If you believe it is in the best interest of my family to do so. I trust that you would not mislead me therefore, as a personal favor to you I will make myself available to meet with Doctor Bloom."

Relief beamed from Pearsall's face.

"Thanks Hannibal. My career really was on the line with this bullshit assignment."

Again to the crux of the matter, "Not at all my friend, I have but one simple request."

"And what would that request be?" Pearsall asked nervous to hear the response.

Hannibal leaned back and crossed his legs casually. "The meetings must take place in my home. If Doctor Bloom is uncomfortable he may bring an escort. Might I suggest Will Graham? I trust his professionalism and would be comfortable with him. I think Bloom will be as well."

"Why at your home? Why not here or at Bloom's office?"

Hannibal brushed something imaginary from his trousers and spoke in a distracted manner though he was intensely focused on Pearsall's reaction.

"After their failed attempt to record me I would not feel comfortable participating in an interview of such a sensitive nature in an uncontrolled environment. If those conditions are agreeable to you, I will be more than happy to oblige your request."

Pearsall understood the reasoning and nodded affirmation, "That's no problem. Bloom can just suck it up and make a house call. Again, Hannibal…Thank you. I couldn't imagine how the hell I was going to convince you."

"The threat of handcuffs would have gone a long way to convince me though you would have squandered all of the good will you have earned had you pursued that option."

"Clarice hates me enough as it is. If I had you dragged off in handcuffs, she would have lost her mind."

Hannibal smiled at the thought, "It is true, my wife is no longer the endearing cub she was years ago. She has become quite the lioness. Trust that had you moved to take me into custody her response would have been swift and it would not have been pretty."

"Thank god that wasn't necessary. I'll call Bloom and set up the meeting, how tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock?"

"That would be fine. Call Clarice to confirm. We would be happy to accommodate Doctor Bloom's schedule."

Hannibal stood and extended a hand, "Thank you my friend. It has been an unexpected pleasure."

Pearsall stood and took Hannibal's hand, "The pleasure's been mine. Could you offer my goodbyes to the others, your wife included. I'd like to get Bloom on the phone now if I can."

"Certainly."

Hannibal left the conference room to join the others in the outer office.

Pearsall sat at the table and reached across to the phone centered a foot in front of him. He lifted the receiver and punched in a series of numbers. Finally, the other end was answered.

"Bloom? Pearsall here. Lecter agreed to meet with you. His house, no arguments and you'd better play nice. My reputation is on the line and possibly my life so you'd better not fuck this up. Tomorrow two o'clock."

"I wouldn't prefer meeting at his home." Bloom spoke quietly into the phone.

"Yeah, well I don't give a shit. I'm not your goddamned social secretary. You don't like the arrangements call Lecter and see how far you get on your own. He's expecting you to bring Will Graham as a body guard so you can calm your bowels."

"Fine I will meet with Hannibal tomorrow at two at the Lecter home."

Pearsall ran to the outer office just as the Hannibal and Clarice were exiting the office.

"It's arranged," Pearsall spoke excitedly, "Tomorrow at two."

Hannibal smiled as he helped Clarice on with her coat. "I look forward to it, Clint. Thank you."

**BLOOM**

Doctor Alan Bloom set the receiver on the cradle, his hand still trembling from the unexpected news. The day he never believed would arrive had. He would be quantifying Hannibal Lecter. Not through the intermediary of Frederick Chilton either. Face to face.

He believed himself equal to the task and hoped it would go well for him.

It _hadn't_ gone well for Chilton.

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and tell me what you think then PM and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	81. Chapter 81

**Welcome back my fan fic friends! **

**Enjoy the new chapter!**

**CLARICE'S BECOMING**

There was an unspoken silence during the car ride back from Quantico. Clarice surveyed her husband carefully. Hannibal didn't speak instead he immediately began to play Mozart over the car's stereo. Raising the volume, he left no room for conversation.

Clarice sat quietly beside him, not in obedience or supplication instead determining whether or not her suggestion that Hannibal meet with Bloom was in fact a good idea. She too was intensely curious as to why he seemed distracted, brooding even. When she reached for the volume control of the car's stereo to pose the question, without saying a word he stayed her hand with his.

Clarice considered him carefully, his expression reflecting a level of turmoil she had not seen in quite some time. She remembered their home in San Martin de Los Andes. The night she slapped him and he flew into a rage. Much the same way that holding her calmed him that evening he seemed to be using the music to self-sedate. She removed her hand and left him to whatever emotion had hold of him. She could see a spark of relief in his eyes.

_Thank you, Clarice._

Hannibal was enraged at Pearsall's suggestion that his child with Clarice would have a possible genetic abnormality. This child would be Hannibal Lecter IX. He could search his past with pride, descended from generations of nobility. This child would be born of Clarice, a true warrior. This child would be exceptional, far more than any whelp Pearsall could produce from his sub-standard genetic foundation.

Still, Hannibal imagined Pearsall's child as he had seen her. A sweet small girl, not much older than the years Mischa had attained. Hannibal would never have suggested there might be anything wrong with her. It offended him that Pearsall had spoken so candidly. Regrettably he had promised not to respond with anger or recrimination though he wanted nothing more than to respond with his Harpy.

Hannibal parked in front of their home, exited the vehicle and dutifully moved to the passenger side of the car. He opened the door and assisted her egress. Clarice paused and laying her hand alongside his face kissed him gently. He lowered his head and touched his forehead to hers.

"Clariiice…" he managed clearly overcome with an overwhelming mix of emotions, "…not yet."

Clarice held his face just a moment longer then let her hand slip away. Hannibal stepped aside and allowed her to pass. He then moved up the few steps and opened the home to her as well.

Clarice, knowing her husband, did not speak nor did she question why he went to his music room and began to play. She didn't grow concerned until it was time for their meal and he had not yet come out. The music he was playing was also cause of some distress as his musical choices often reflected his mood. The selections were ominous, baleful, melancholy dirges of the most depressing kind, minor keys mirroring the human voice the phrasing and roundness of the notes sounding as if the instrument were crying out Hannibal's anguish.

Clarice could take no more. She stood outside the door and waited for his acknowledgement.

It took no more than a few seconds. Within the music room Hannibal's nostrils flared. He lifted his chin high and turned his face from one side to the other as if he could inhale her scent with the very pores of his face.

"Yes, Clarice?" he asked quietly.

"Can I sit with you for a moment?"

"Of course you may."

Clarice entered the music room and approached the bench as if approaching an altar. Hannibal returned to his playing.

Clarice sat on the bench beside him and watched him play. Hannibal's hands flew across the keys, his arms raised and crashed down like the fallen limbs of trees as his thundered to the piece's end. After pounding out the last chords he slowly drew his hands back and placed them, palms down, on his thighs.

"Pearsall believes our child will be a genetic aberration," Hannibal stated with no emotion inferred.

"What? He actually had the balls to say that to you?" Clarice's emotions need not be inferred as her anger was plainly felt and even more plainly seen.

"Yes. Additionally he offered that you were throwing your life away as little more than my house maid and that the birth of our child may or may not be a worthwhile effort as the child's DNA includes mine."

"He said all that and you did what?" she asked, dumbfounded by the statement.

"What would you have me do? I had given him my word that I would not respond with anger or injury. I am attempting to prove that I am not a threat to society, Clarice."

"Yeah…well I don't have a goddamned thing to prove. You go back to playing. I'm going back to Quantico. I didn't promise that mother fucker a goddamned thing!"

Clarice stormed out of the music room, and stalked through the house looking for her keys. She spotted them in the kitchen on the breakfast bar and gripping them in her fist, hooked her purse over her arm and headed out the door. Hannibal was no more than two steps behind her.

"Clarice…this isn't necessary."

"It is absolutely fucking necessary, H…I've eaten that man's bullshit for a lot of years. No one is going to talk to you like that and no one is going to talk about our baby like that. While I'm gone you should probably give Will Graham a call. His phone number is written on the pad next to the phone."

Clarice sped off in her Mustang. Hannibal beamed with pride, his heart warmed with immense satisfaction. His cub was grown. Pearsall was about to feel her claws.

**HANNIBAL'S LIONESS**

Clarice stormed into Pearsall's office. There were two young agents sitting in chairs in front of the desk as Pearsall lorded over them from his strategically higher position.

The young men sat bolt upright when they saw Clarice. It was obvious they not only recognized her but were excited to be in her presence whispering to each other as Clarice approached Pearsall.

"What can I do for you Starling?" Pearsall quizzed unsuspecting.

Clarice slammed her palm on Pearsall's desk then wagged a threatening finger at the shocked Deputy Director.

"That's Mrs. Hannibal Lecter to you, you absolute piece of shit! You might want your Agents to excuse themselves because after the crap you shoveled in my husband's face today I don't intend to hold my tongue."

Pearsall nodded and the young men staring in awe at Clarice, even more so hearing her berate their feared Deputy Director, took their leave. Clarice didn't even wait for the door to be closed before she charged across the room and poked her finger repeatedly in Pearsall's chest.

The young agents looked over their shoulders and laughed like frat boys. They were scuttling one over the other through the doorway like crabs in a bucket obviously excited to be the first to relay the story of Pearsall's shaming to their friends.

Clarice raged, "Who the fuck do you think you are talking to my husband the way you did today?"

Pearsall stepped back with his hands held up in surrender. "He told me to be honest with him…I was honest!"

"Honesty has dignity and truth. You were slinging innuendo and insults. You're lucky he made you that promise."

"Are you saying that if he hadn't he would have attacked me?"

Clarice stalled. This was not the path the conversation needed to travel.

_Time to regroup. _

"Let me rephrase that. You're goddamned lucky my husband puts the safety and well- being of me and the baby above everything else. Had this been just a year ago…he would have excised your thymus and sautéed it with wild mushrooms and white fucking wine."

"I'm sorry Clarice. I didn't think about what I was saying. It's just…when I'm that close to him…he unnerves me. I'm sorry. I'll apologize."

"Don't you dare fucking bother. He's over it. I'm not," she warned.

"I can't believe he _told_ you all of that." Pearsall was contrite and embarrassed.

Clarice slammed her purse on the empty chair beside her. "He tells me everything so keep that in mind the next time you tell my husband that I threw my life away on him and that our kid is going to be some kind of a goddamned science experiment!"

Pearsall nervously smoothed his hand over the back of his neck, "Yeah…I shouldn't have said those things."

Clarice paced in front of the desk with her hands balled up at her sides. She was raging over the things Hannibal told her and understood why he was so upset when they first arrived home.

"You shouldn't have _thought_ those things! Do you know how hard it is to be him? Do you have any fucking idea what he goes through during the course of the day to make me happy?"

"I don't know. How could I?" clearly overwhelmed, Pearsall sat behind his desk in surrender.

"He would have probably had a much easier time living out his life somewhere in a quiet country where a few American dollars would've bought him a lot of pleasure and even more silence. Instead, he subjects himself to public disdain, scrutiny and the insults of assholes like you all because he loves me."

"Yeah, well it isn't like he is totally _innocent_ Clarice. Your husband killed people and _ate_ them."

"He never once complained about being incarcerated or being tortured by that asshole Chilton and while he was being brutalized he was helping this agency solve the cases that Bloom and the rest of the fucking morons you all bow down in front of couldn't handle. The next time you sit behind that desk pushing papers around spouting off about how many lives he's _taken_ why don't you sit back and count all the lives he _saved_. Good bad or indifferent people know who Hannibal Lecter is. No one knows who the fuck _you_ are Clint and I think it sticks in your craw a little that _no one ever will_."

Clarice turned around, slung her purse across her shoulder like she was adjusting a gun holster and without another word stormed out of the room.

Outside the offices of the F.B.I. Clarice revved the throaty engine of her custom Mustang feeling absolutely invigorated. For months Hannibal had been fighting for her, attempting to alter his very nature to be an acceptable mate and father. This was one of the few times that she was able to defend him. Mrs. Hannibal Lecter smiled as she stomped on the gas pedal spinning the wheels of the gift her husband purchased her. As she surged from her parking space Clarice felt the baby kicking within her. She smoothed her hand over her swollen abdomen and spoke softly to their child within.

"That's right little man. You and I just kicked some ignorant ass for Daddy tonight. Now let's go home and tell him about it."

Clarice began the ride back to Baltimore feeling satisfied having torn Pearsall apart. She was certain Hannibal would be proud of her. She believed the 'fuck you' to Pearsall, was as good as any 'I love you' ever spoken to her husband.

Hannibal followed his wife's advice. Waiting for Clarice to return home he picked up the receiver and dialed the number by the phone. He smiled to himself as Will Graham answered on his end.

"Well hello, Will. I have a favor to ask."

"What can I do for you Doctor Lec…" he corrected himself, "Sorry, what can I do for you, Hannibal?"

"The meeting with Bloom is tomorrow afternoon. Your presence I'm sure will be requested."

"He has already contacted me. I have a meeting with him in an hour."

"That brings me to my favor…"

Graham understood the nature of the request before Hannibal needed to speak it.

"I'll stop over as soon as the meeting is concluded. By then I'll have an accurate idea of what we're looking at and we'll get your game plan together based on the information I can gather."

Hannibal smiled, "Thanks Will…I knew I could count on you."

Hannibal heard the Mustang.

Clarice entered the home and tossed her keys on the table beside the front door.

Hannibal hung up the phone and peaked around the corner to see Clarice putting her purse and coat in the closet.

Hannibal opened his arms. Clarice bounded across the room and laying her hand alongside his face as she had earlier, kissed him and allowed her husband to fold her within his embrace.

"So…my playful cub has sharpened her claws."

Clarice buried her face against his chest, "All over that asshole…like he was a scratching post."

Hannibal understood her need to handle the situation. He was in awe of her Becoming. She was now everything he believed, so many years ago, that she would be. Hannibal kissed the top of her head and beamed with pride.

He answered her defense of him in the only way necessary. Hannibal Lecter pulled his wife against his body, his arms wrapped securely around her. As he hugged his beloved wife tightly to him he exhaled a deep, satisfied sigh. A low rumble like the purr of a mighty cat rolled within his broad chest, humming against her ear.

"I love you as well, Clarice."

Hannibal could feel her smile move across his chest. His once precious cub…all of the deadly tools wrapped in the playful innocence of her youth had now been fully realized. Her potential fulfilled within his arms, she was now _his_ lioness.

He would never let her go.

**Don't forget to review and let me know what you think then PM and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH **


	82. Chapter 82

**Welcome back my very dear fan fic friends! Enjoy! LH**

**A Pound of Flesh**

Hannibal and Clarice finished dinner the air thick with rich stew and freshly baked bread. Together husband and wife had cleaned the kitchen. Hannibal was preparing the leftover stew for Clarice to deliver to the neighbors. Clarice was busy pouring espresso when the doorbell rang.

"Allow me Clarice," the devoted husband brushed a hand across the small of her back as he passed.

Hannibal, apron still tied fast around his waist, answered the door. He was obviously pleased to see Graham and extended his hand.

"Greetings Will. Please come in."

With an arm swept open in welcome Hannibal sidestepped gracefully and allowed Graham entrance.

Will Graham couldn't help himself. Whenever Hannibal was within what he considered striking distance, he was skittish. This time was no different as his voice shook slightly, "Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

A knowing smile crossed Hannibal's face as fear clung to Graham's body like a rain soaked shirt.

Hannibal inhaled the wisp of air as Graham passed, and breathing deeply enough to engage his taste buds, savored the flood of fear.

Heartened by the man's willingness to push past his own discomfort to help him Hannibal spoke kindly, "It was my understanding that we had evolved beyond titles my friend."

Graham's face flushed red, obviously embarrassed, "Sorry. It might take me a while to get used to this…Hannibal."

The good doctor smiled, slightly amused at Graham's discomfort and how awkwardly he wrapped his lips around Hannibal's name the way a young boy would around newly installed braces. There being no comfort in it.

"No apologies are necessary, Will. Let me inform Clarice of your arrival and we will retreat to the study."

Hannibal removed the apron protecting his impeccable suit as he walked to the kitchen to check in with Clarice. Graham followed at what he determined was a safe distance, maintaining a four step separation between them.

Hannibal leaned around the doorway of the kitchen and quickly tossed his apron on the counter.

"Will has just now arrived Clarice. We'll be in the study should you need anything. If you would like to join us you would be most welcome."

Clarice was finishing an espresso at the breakfast bar. She had fixed a tray with the rich Italian coffee and placed it in a carafe with some of the homemade sfogliatelle Hannibal had prepared earlier.

"Nah, I'll take a rain check, H. I'll bring the dinner over to the neighbors then I think I'm going to go shopping with Ardelia. There are a few things I need to get for the baby. I want to have everything ready. Take the tray with you so won't have to stop your meeting to prepare a snack."

Hannibal moved beside Clarice and rubbed his hand across her shoulders, traveling up and down her back to relax her muscles. Having just now closed the distance, Graham reached the doorway waiting patiently as he watched their interaction.

Hannibal leaned over her shoulder and spoke softly, "As you wish, Clarice. I have the black card in my wallet and would like you to take it."

Hannibal began to grip her shoulders and her deltoids, pressing and releasing, kneading her tired muscles. A prolonged and breathy sigh escaped Clarice as she melted against her husband's body. Hannibal's heart beat faster, the enamored husband suddenly disappointed that he and Clarice were not alone.

"I don't know, H. People look at you funny when you bust out that card. Most of the salespeople have never seen one." Clarice stretched her shoulders and arched her back enjoying the massage.

"It is more likely my name on the card puts them on edge more than the card itself. I don't want you walking around with excessive cash. It isn't prudent."

She leaned into his hands and allowed her head to drop back looking up at her husband. Her eyes were wide and she spoke plainly, that being one of the things Hannibal loved so much about her.

"H…who the hell is going to bother me? Let's put aside that I'm an ex-FBI agent. For Christ's sake…I'm _Hannibal Lecter's_ wife."

"She's got a point." Will commented with a bemused smile on his face.

Clarice relented, "Okay, thinking about it…I'll take the card, if only because Ardelia's never seen one. She'll probably get a kick out of it."

"Take care of Ardelia's purchases as well, Clarice. I would enjoy treating you both to an evening of shopping."

Clarice tossed back the last of her espresso as if throwing back a shot of whiskey and stood. "Thanks, H…When I tell her she'll have a heart attack." She slipped her hand in Hannibal's back pants pocket.

She obviously grabbed a firm handful of more than wallet. Hannibal flinched at the contact plainly more from surprise than discomfort.

"That is _not_ where I keep my wallet, Clarice."

Clarice leaned in flirtatiously, her body fully pressed against Hannibal's with her hand still firmly planted on his backside. "I know that. Your wallet is in your inside left breast pocket."

"If you are aware of the location of my wallet, why is your hand in the rear pocket my trousers?"

"Because I wanted to touch you and reaching into the front pocket of your trousers with Will here would be a little too…forward."

Graham, realizing that Hannibal Lecter had been fully taken by surprise was shocked and more than a little impressed by Clarice. The pair seemed to have an extremely loving relationship. Their ease around one another was disarming and this relationship was one that Graham would never have assumed Hannibal would be capable of.

_You had…disadvantages…You're insane._

Smiling at his wife's flirtation Hannibal teased in return. Opening his jacket as if baring his chest he revealed the pocket encouraging his wife to retrieve it. Clarice smoothed a hand across his well-muscled pectorals and reached with her remaining hand into his jacket. Very seductively she pulled out his wallet.

Clarice slipped the card from the billfold and replaced the wallet.

Hannibal tipped his wife's face upward and kissed her tenderly. As they separated she playfully nipped at his chin and slapped him on the backside.

She whispered in his ear though it was still loud enough to be heard by Graham, "I'll see you later, Handsome."

Hannibal picked up the tray and carried it out of the kitchen. He spoke over his shoulder as he moved past his wife, "Rest assured you will see _all _of me later, my Love."

As Will Graham followed Hannibal nervously to the study, Clarice had a brief revelatory moment and called after them.

"H! Wait!"

Surprised at the urgent sound of her voice, Hannibal and Graham turned.

"I'm sorry...Hannibal, can I see Will for just a moment?"

Hannibal's eyebrow arched his head tilted in confusion. He did not ask the nature of the request. "Hannibal is it? Has the conversation taking a serious turn, my Love?"

"Just a professional courtesy, one ex-agent to another…would you mind?"

"Certainly not, I'll leave you to your business. I shall be in the study. Join me at your leisure, Will." Carrying the tray, Hannibal moved quietly down the hallway.

Graham approached Clarice with a quizzical look in his eyes, "Clarice? What's up?"

Clarice spoke softly, "My plans are only tentative. If you don't want to be totally alone with him believe me I would understand. I'll stick around here if you would feel more comfortable. I won't tell him why."

Graham smiled, "Even if you didn't tell him, he'd _know_ why. No, I'm okay. I'll probably have a panic attack or two but I'll live. I know he won't hurt me."

"_I _know he won't but how do _you_ know? What made you decide that for yourself?"

Graham made eye contact with Clarice. His voice was firm, that confident was he in his assessment of Hannibal, "I didn't believe it until I saw you together. I see love in his eyes. If he hurt me he would get caught and that would take him away from you. I think losing you would be the only thing that could break him."

The statement rang true and though she knew it would never happen, the thought of Hannibal's anguish injured Clarice. She assented, "Okay, if you're sure."

Graham shuffled a foot along the ground. "Yeah…I'm positive. What should I tell your husband? He'll be curious."

Clarice reached for her purse, pulled out her wallet and slipped the black card within. She then carried the food for the neighbors to the foyer and set it on the entryway table to put on her coat.

"That depends on whether or not you want him to know. If you aren't self-conscious you can just tell him the truth."

Graham stuffed his fists in his pockets. He spoke in a whisper as if Hannibal could overhear, "And if I _am_ self-conscious?"

Clarice took her coat out of the closet and readied herself as she advised, "Then tell him nothing. Trust me he _won't_ ask. He would think it…_rude_."

Graham pondered his next move, "Okay…thanks Clarice."

Clarice began to put on her coat. "No problem. Just relax. He doesn't bite…_anymore_." She laughed playfully.

Will walked a few steps and stopped. Curiosity overtaking him he returned to Clarice. "Clarice, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure…I've got no secrets."

Will took Clarice's coat, allowed her to put her arms in it, and slipped it over her shoulders. Although Clarice seemed casual about Will's curiosity he was tentative in the questioning, "So, not to offend but he's…_normal_ now?"

Clarice couldn't help but laugh, "No…he'll _never_ be _normal._ He's an absolutely singular being."

"And he doesn't ever make you feel…_afraid_?"

Clarice affirmed as she buttoned the front of her coat, "You may find this impossible to believe but I've never felt safer in my life than I do in his arms. He is the absolute love of my life."

"Well…he seems different, calmer than he used to be. He was so much more like a machine than a man before but even at that…he always seemed to be wound a little tight. He seems so relaxed...at ease."

Wrapping a scarf around her neck to ward off the winter air she assessed, "I guess he's different now because he isn't threatened. He knows he's loved and he has nothing to hide. He can be himself and we can openly live together. It's a real gift. A tremendous burden has been lifted from his shoulders."

Graham nodded. "Yeah…I guess that's it. Well, I'd better get back before he thinks I've chickened out and I'm heading back to Marathon or something. Thanks Clarice."

She picked up the food for the neighbors and headed out, "Sure…glad I could help."

Will Graham walked down the hall to the study where he and Hannibal had met several times for professional consultations and the one time they attempted to kill one another.

For his part Hannibal was unconcerned about the interaction between Clarice and Will Graham. He sat at his desk in his comfortable leather chair with his eyes closed. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he imagined the warmth of his cheek as it rested on Clarice's hip. He inhaled deeply and summoned to him the scent of her following their lovemaking. He could feel her quickened pulsed ticking against his face.

Will entered the room and seeing Hannibal steeped in silence, did not announce himself instead sitting silently. He was certain Hannibal was aware of his presence.

Hannibal's eyelids lifted slowly like great curtains rising before a performance.

Tucking the image of Clarice away to be enjoyed at a later time Hannibal set a demitasse on it's saucer, poured the espresso and placed it in front of Will.

"Your business with Clarice is concluded I take it?"

Graham accepted the aromatic offering and responded simply, "Yes."

Clarice was right. He didn't ask.

"Hannibal?"

"Yes?" Hannibal responded while passively sipping his espresso.

"Aren't you concerned or curious about what your wife wanted?"

Hannibal set a dish with the homemade pastry in front of Graham. "Yes, of course I am curious. Concerned? Not even remotely. I trust Clarice implicitly."

Hannibal gestured for Graham to taste the dessert. Will took a bite of the crispy pastry and ruminated while chewing. Should he or should he not tell Hannibal the details of the conversation? After swallowing his third large bite, he readily volunteered the information believing it illustrated trust.

"She was concerned that I might be afraid to be left alone with you. She offered to change her plans."

Hannibal assumed Clarice was concerned about Will Graham's comfort and was pleased that his assumption had been correct.

"How very thoughtful of her. I myself hadn't considered you might be. Perhaps I was being less than receptive to your emotional needs."

"No...really, I'm fine. I told her to go. It was nice of her to offer, though. She's very thoughtful."

"Yes…she is everything I had ever dreamed of in a woman but something I never dared to hope I would have."

"You really are in love with her aren't you?" Graham asked, hoping Hannibal wouldn't think him too forward.

"Yes. Hopelessly."

As Graham watched Hannibal he was becoming convinced that the good doctor had entered a new chapter in his life. Not only was Clarice a tremendously stable influence but she knew what her husband was and was not only accepting of it, she embraced it. It was obvious that she was a good wife and would be a good mother. Graham now dared to believe that Hannibal Lecter, former serial killer, was now an obviously attentive and loving husband. It seemed he could be a good father as well. Believing he was truly making the right decision, he began to relate the results of his meeting with Bloom.

"Bloom knows you are far too sophisticated to sit down and answer questionnaires without guiding the outcome of them so he is going to start the meeting tomorrow by asking you several questions. He's going to attempt to line up the questions with the checklist by Hares."

"The PCL Revised?"

"Yes."

"So he is using the survey to frame his own assessment? He will originate the questions? What does he plan on doing with that blunt little tool he calls a mind?"

"He's attempting to assign a numerical rating to prove either your psychopathy or your high threat of recidivism."

Hannibal deliberated briefly before his summation, "That is ridiculous. Does he believe he can reduce my pathology to a mere twenty questions?"

Graham was enjoying the pastry and swallowed quickly before answering, careful not to allow the powdered sugar dusting the treat to get on the furniture.

"I don't think he's concerned with your _true_ pathology. I believe he is more concerned about whether or not he can attach a number to you and what that number will prove. I think that's a pretty fair assessment of his intentions. At least you know what test he is basing his questions on."

Hannibal steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lip pensively.

"How far do you believe he is willing to take this?" he asked, somewhat concerned about the answer.

Graham finished the pastry and spoke with a hand over his mouth as he chewed the last bite.

"As far as he has to, he thinks he has the moral high ground. I'm not getting any sense that he has boundaries in his mind and no compunction about pursuing this case. He is single minded about it."

Hannibal used a palm to smooth his hair back from his forehead. He was visibly disturbed, his voice deepening with the intensity of his thoughts he agonized over the assessment.

"He is hell bent on removing my child from me? My first born…my _son_…He will _take_ him from me…from _Clarice_?"

Graham's heart raced as Hannibal hung his mighty head. He wished he could offer words of comfort but knew there were none. He dreaded speaking the next sentence.

"No, Hannibal. Not take the baby from Clarice… I believe he wants to remove _you_."

Incredulous, Hannibal agonized, "_Remove _me…To _where_?"

Hannibal Lecter was normally a blank slate to Will Graham so the ex-agent was amazed at the amount of emotion he could read in Hannibal's eyes. The glowing maroon of his irises radiated as if the intensity of the topic charged them providing terrifying luminosity.

Graham shifted uncomfortably, "Not a prison. He thinks you're sick. He'd love to get you to Chicago or have them relocate him here. _He_ wants to treat you, personally."

Hannibal covered his mouth briefly as if he were nauseous. He swallowed hard against the emetic event.

"No. He does not want to treat me. He wants to do precisely the same thing to me as Emilia and Nico with one difference. He wants to wrap it in a blanket of intellectual pursuit and public safety. Remember Will…the dungeon where I was forced to spend more than eight years was not a _prison_. It was a hospital for the criminally insane. I was remanded there for _treatment _though I would have fared better in prison."

"Nico and Emilia…they are the couple who tortured you?"

Absentmindedly Hannibal moved his hand to his side. He reached under his suit jacket and over the shirt as he bumped his fingertips across the keloids where so much of his flesh had been removed.

"They were not ashamed to be direct about their sadistic tendencies or misuse of my person for their own self-gratification. When my flesh was excised it was stripped from my body without explanation or apology. As much as it was a cruel act, if an act_ itself_ can be assessed as such, it was an honest act one might argue a pure act. Bloom has neither the self-awareness or the testicular volume to admit that if I _was_ indeed ill and if I_ am_ now healed I may again begin to publish in our chosen field of study. He believes that somehow through the natural order of things that as I become relevant he, by extension, becomes irrelevant. If I become _More Than_ he feels he must become _Less Than_."

Graham found himself nodding in agreement, "I hadn't thought of it like that. I don't think Bloom would _intentionally_ sabotage you, at least not consciously, but he is definitely going into this interview with an agenda aside from the one Pearsall has approved and his boundaries are limited. Do you want me to discuss it with Clint? Tell him what Bloom told me?"

"No. Thank you for offering to intercede but if we were to tip him off I would be unable to counter his accusations. No, I shall face be forced to face him. I must warn you Will, that if this man moves to take me from my family my response will not be measured. It will be swift and if need be it will be merciless. The last man who attempted to do so felt my hand reach into his chest and tear out his heart. If I am to be taken against my will from my wife whom I love more than my own life, and my son whom I would die to protect, I will gladly forfeit all I have become and will again embrace all that I was. Rest assured before they take me... I shall excise _my_ pound of flesh."

Graham sat in the chair gripped with fear as he gripped the armrest. For the quickest flash he saw deep within the eyes of his friend the good doctor's previous self, Hannibal the Cannibal.

Bloom would arrive several hours from now. Graham would be there as well and he hoped Hannibal would show restraint. Will Graham had decided the only safe course of action when dealing with the collision of Hannibal Lecter and Alan Bloom.

He would make sure that Clarice_ stayed _at home tomorrow.

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and tell me what you think then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	83. Chapter 83

**Welcome back my friends! Enjoy the chapter!**

**DEER TO THE SLAUGHTER**

Clarice returned home with several packages. She carried what she could but intended to ask Hannibal to retrieve the car seat she purchased as the box it was stored in made it far too bulky to maneuver with her expanded abdomen. She walked in and out of several rooms calling out his name and was surprised in finding he was nowhere to be found. Realizing that she was indeed alone in the home and growing evermore concerned she went to the kitchen to look for a note. There, sticking from the side of the refrigerator was a neatly folded piece of velum paper wedged within the door much as Clarice's pony tail had been trapped at Paul Krendler's home.

She plucked the note from between the doors muttering to no one in particular.

"You are such a wise ass, H!"

Smoothing her hand over the folded paper Clarice's heart began to race just a bit, as it did any…no _every_ time she received a letter from him. The anticipation was both exhilarating, and as she was always honest with herself she admitted, a bit irritating as well.

_It's just a goddamned piece of paper! Jesus what am I Pavlov's dog?_

She opened the note and began to read.

_Dearest Clarice, _

_This being February, I am certain you will forgive my unannounced absence. Will Graham concluded his visit earlier than anticipated as Doctor Bloom's plan for tomorrow is skeletal at best. This provided the perfect opportunity to pick up the items purchased for our upcoming Valentine's Day celebration. This being our first together as husband and wife, I would have everything perfect._

_If there are any parcels in the car too large for you to manage I shall handle them upon my return. Rest assured I will spend no more time from you than is necessary to complete my task. A mere moment away from you is too long. _

_Ever Yours, _

_H_

Clarice smiled and carried the note with her upstairs to the baby's room. Going to the closet she reached up and slipped her fingers along the shelf. Finally her hand came upon the desired item. Clarice retrieved a box she inherited from John Brigham delivered from the duplex recently by Ardelia. It held Brigham's sidearm, it having been left to Clarice upon his passing.

Clarice floated her palm above the ornate box as if drawing emotional energy from it. It was a deep well-grained wood and had been richly finished with a glossy sheen. It had detailed inlay pattern of Asian design. Clarice opened it lovingly and lifted the gun along with its insert from and set it gently on the baby's changing table. She then placed the note within the box and returned the gun and its sleeve covering that note along with the several others Hannibal had lovingly written and she had lovingly placed.

She placed the notes within this particular box because it was a private possession of hers and as such, Hannibal would never open it.

_I know you'd think it's silly that I keep these, H…_

Clarice had few possessions, an offshoot from her years at the orphanage, but each of her possessions were extremely important to her as each had a deeply and intensely felt personal connection to someone she loved. Anything else was materialistic and unnecessary.

Clarice returned the box to its temporary place in the baby's closet.

Enjoying a few quiet moments she took the purchased items and moved about the child's room humming happily as she placed each item with loving anticipation. As much as she adored Hannibal his intensity could at times be overwhelming. It was nice to have a few moments to just…be. Soon there would be precious little free time.

This being the second week in February with the due date in April, there would be no more than eight weeks or so before their son's arrival. Clarice wanted everything to be perfect. Life would be changing soon. Clarice had no idea how much. She would not have been as relaxed and content if she had been aware of the danger her husband would soon be forced to face.

Hannibal entered the jewelry store on the lower level of the mall to pick up the present he had specifically designed for Clarice. The jewelry store was extremely high end as the less expensive options could be found in various large kiosks throughout the mall.

Hannibal had used an alternate name when ordering the jewelry as he didn't want to be recognized. To that end he wore tinted sunglasses to shield his irises and angled his hat low on his head. The cold winter provided the perfect excuse to bundle so fully. An ornate silk and cashmere Hermes scarf knotted at the neck like an ascot distracted from his face. He would pay the balance in cash in order to complete the transaction anonymously. Not that he had a choice, having given Clarice the credit card.

He approached the counter and greeted the salesperson, "Good evening. I am here to pick up a custom order."

"Certainly Sir, do you have the form you received when you placed your order?"

"Yes, of course." Hannibal unbuttoned his overcoat and reached into his inside left breast pocket.

The salesperson was a tall, once elegant woman who wore her age. She had ropy cords holding her head in place with a neck that twisted like a giraffe's as she turned. Atop her small head sat a poof of over-coiffed hair that looked more like corn husks than corn silk. Hannibal handed the woman his order slip and waited.

"Thank you, if you'll excuse me Dr. Dante, I'll be just a moment," she spoke as she moved to retrieve the item from a safe just beneath the display case. Rising over the counter with the desired object she placed a black velvet presentation box on the glass, spun it around and opened it toward Hannibal. The case was lined with a rich maroon fabric that mirrored Hannibal's eyes.

Nestled within rested a platinum bracelet with loose links. The ends of the bracelet were joined by a customized charm closing it. The charm had set in the center the figure eight, if held vertically. If held horizontally it appeared as if the symbol represented infinity. Two large diamonds filled the centers of the symbol.

Hannibal removed the bracelet from the box and draped it over his palm to further inspect the piece. Suddenly he felt eyes on him. Shifting his attention he spotted two men passing in front of the window regarding him with disdain as they passed. He turned his back and fully disregarded them as he placed the bracelet back in the box.

"Could you please gift wrap the item?"

"Certainly Sir, would you like a gift card to include with it?" The woman tapped away at the cash register. Hannibal looked at the total and handed the woman the balance in cash.

"No, thank you. I am certain my wife would expect her Valentine to be hand-picked."

As he waited patiently for the package to be gift wrapped Hannibal noticed the same two men continually passing in front of the large window of the jewelry store. They watched hungry, paying special attention as he withdrew cash from his wallet to pay the remaining balance. Somewhat intrigued by their attention, as if tossing chum before the circling sharks, Hannibal made no effort to hide the large denominations spilling from his billfold.

_Curious are we my friends? You have piqued my interest as well. _

Quickly assessing the men, Hannibal decided the larger of the two appeared Caucasian and the other man, smaller but compact, might very well be African- American. They were attempting to disguise gang affiliations though unsuccessfully as the colors of their identical bandanas were only partially tucked in their pockets. Hannibal could smell gun oil.

_They have the weapons with them or they would not be so bold._

Hannibal's nostrils flared as he picked up the distinct scent of curried meat, goat perhaps…possible West Indies descent. Both men looked fit and well-muscled and it was obvious they were accustomed to their own intimidation factor.

_It seems by your carriage that others fear you. I do not._

They were bold, not bothering to use their peripheral vision to mask their surveillance instead staring directly at Hannibal in a threatening, almost challenging manner. The pair had been studying him quite closely and had clearly decided Hannibal, with his high end clothing and elegant demeanor would be an easy mark.

_I am not the wounded deer you take me to be. I will not be led by the neck to my slaughter._

The saleswoman finished the gift wrap and moved to place the package in a small decorative bag with the store's name and logo blazoned across it. Hannibal lifted a hand in polite refusal.

"The bag will not be necessary."

"As you wish…" she stated as she handed him the present. "…have a wonderful evening and may I add that you have exquisite taste, Sir."

"Thank you, Madam. Enjoy your evening as well. "

Hannibal tipped his fedora graciously to the saleswoman and ventured out of the store into the glimmering expanses of the mall. Hannibal turned to exit, quickly testing the air to assess the location of the pair. He spotted the pair approximately fifty feet from him shielding themselves beside a frozen yogurt booth.

_It would be a mistake to follow me gentlemen but come along if you must. My life has been sorely lacking entertainment. You may provide needed…fulfillment._

He stepped out of the store and into the main body of the mall. In full view of any and all, Hannibal unbuttoned his overcoat, did the same with his suit jacket and tucked the small package in the breast pocket of his suit. He then re-fastened the buttons of the jacket and the overcoat making the item difficult to access in a quick bump and grab but tempting enough to cause interest.

Hannibal's footfalls struck the tile with precise rhythm as if paced by a metronome. He was deliberate and alert, his eyes consistently scanning as he made use of the tools at his disposal. Realizing that the men had minimal intellectual capacity, therefore minimal output was necessary, he sought a distraction. Hannibal moved through the mall moving too through the halls of his memory palace. Finding what he sought he stood before an image by Dali.

He had been considering the use of rhinoceros horns in several of Dali's paintings, the horns reflecting an interest in divine geometry. Hannibal pondered the twisting growth of the keratinous material knowing that, though seemingly random, the growth matrices formed in perfect logarithmic spirals. As he stood before the images within his mind and ran through a series of mathematical variances, one phrase rang out, calling him to arms as it echoed through the expansive halls. He cocked his head one side and considered the three words booming out to him.

_Free range rude._

Hannibal left the Great Hall with the magnificently soaring ceilings. He left the Dali promising himself to return and consider the Virgin Mary when next in that room. He needed now to search for a room he had not opened since leaving Argentina. He paused briefly before the gateway.

_Should I?_

A voice from within…his voice and yet not his own, replied, "Yes."

Hannibal Lecter reached for the large handle and raised the latch. He contemplated before fully opening the heavy door to briefly admire the gnarled walnut and huge iron studded spikes of its construction. It was a formidable door though more formidable was what was housed within. Hannibal Lecter, chest expanding and muscles flexing from the effort swung open the awesome, awful door, thus unleashing Predator.

Reflective surfaces such as the sheening glass of store fronts and convex security mirrors provided ample coverage for his needs. Occasionally Hannibal would pause at a kiosk to briefly sight the men. Hannibal was certain that he was far more familiar with the security systems of this mall than his pursuers. Knowing the timing and placement of each camera on each and every level Hannibal led the men to the employee exit on the lowest level. It was next to the loading docks where the trucks delivered their wares.

_If they follow me here, their intention will be plain._

The level the good doctor chose to exit from had cameras pointed at the doors of the loading dock to prevent theft. Timing his exit to the panning of the camera that covered the area Hannibal pushed through a half-door with speed and stealth. This was not a normal entrance but an abbreviated opening designed strictly to load shopping carts, as such only one camera had been trained on this area.

When the camera swung to the side, Hannibal moved like a panther, sleek and dark. He quickly slipped the scarf from his neck, looped it over the camera and yanked hard, spinning the lens toward the opposite wall. He then moved across to the employee exit in order to draw the men through the doors. They would be in full view of two additional cameras that had not picked up Hannibal's movements. Knowing the arc of the equipment, Hannibal stayed in view of the men but just out of range of the camera.

_Come along my friends…let us play._

He bent to the ground pretending to tighten the laces on his immaculate wing tips.

Suddenly, while Hannibal remained on bended knee, the door burst open and the two men appeared.

"Give us that bracelet and all your money mother fucker." The smaller man shouted mustering as much threat as his light voice could produce.

Hannibal's irises were shielded by the tinted pair of glasses he often wore in public. He lowered his glasses, revealing his maroon irises. The men recognized him instantly.

"I think not." Hannibal replied with an eerie excitement in his voice.

"Hannibal Fucking Lecter! Holy shit man! I'm not only gonna take your money. I want those fucking eyes! " the larger man boomed.

The smaller of the two rushed Hannibal, who had strategically remained low to the ground. The attacker grabbed Hannibal from behind reaching across his collarbone in an attempt to restrain. Hannibal turned his chin, tucking it against his shoulder to avoid being choked. He then reached back and pulled the man's right leg through his own legs. The man's body crashed to the ground striking his head on the pavement and dazing him. Hannibal then took two quick steps forward, lifted his leg and crushed the man's windpipe with his newly tied wingtips. The attacker twisted and gurgled, blood foaming out of his mouth.

Hannibal then squared off with the larger man, "You wanted my eyes? Come... take them."

"Fuck you old man."

"_Old_ man," Hannibal probed as he stepped one leg over the other, circling to the man's weaker side.

"Yeah…_OLD_ man," the barely-out- of- his- teens- hoodlum shouted.

"Yes, well I suppose I shouldn't complain. I much prefer being an old man to a never-going-to- be-an-old man." Hannibal teased as he winked at the thug.

Livid, the attacker charged. Hannibal's body instantly flooded with adrenalin. He had the uncanny ability to almost slow time such was his body's fluid response to threat. Automatically his fingers tucked into his cuff but he belayed that instinct realizing the hooked point of the blade would in fact point to him. He would have to handle this with his hands alone.

The robber thrust a knife at Hannibal's throat. Hannibal, displaying the balletic grace of a matador, slipped the attack by leaning his body and shifting his weight to his opposite foot. He spun into the attacker and instantly grabbed the man's knife arm by the wrist and shoulder. He viciously drove the limb over his knee causing the arm to snap in half at the elbow. Hannibal compared the sound to that of a tree branch cracking under the weight of snow.

The attacker, no longer worried about being silent, screamed in agony. Rolling on the cold, damp pavement he reached for a gun in his waist band. Seeing the weapon, Hannibal rolled out of the way and ducked behind a cement support stanchion where the other robber's body remained.

The attacker, with his one good arm began to squeeze off shots. Hannibal lifted the head of the fallen man by the hair and using the body as a shield bent the man's head back and exposed his neck. Two of the bullets struck the head, obliterating the face. Two additional rounds tore apart the neck and throat structure removing any evidence of Hannibal's foot on the throat.

The desperate man continued to pull the trigger the remaining shots pinged off the cement structure sending powdered pieces of the façade dusting upward forming concrete clouds in the air.

Having eliminated the evidence of Hannibal's so called crime the good doctor now allowed the body to slump. He watched the corpse slide to the side and noticed a gun jutting out of the back of the dead man's pants.

Reaching quickly for the gun, Lecter laced the attacker's finger through the trigger and wrapped the hand around the grip of the gun. He remembered the left was the man's favored hand as that was the hand that held the knife.

Hannibal taunted the larger man, "You wanted my eyes? Allow me to assist you."

Hannibal aimed the dead man's hand and squeezed off two shots smiling at the accuracy of his placement.

As the body rolled onto it's side like a listing ship Hannibal noted with pride that one round settling in the sockets of each eye leaving gaping blood filled holes.

Standing, he quickly wiped his prints from the bodies of the men and quickly took his leave pleased with himself that he remained fully out of camera's view.

Hannibal moved to the parking lot and as he started his car he had a flash of true regret.

The taller of the two had exceptional cheeks. They would have made a lovely amuse bouche.

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and tell me what you think then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	84. Chapter 84

**Welcome back to NMASL2, my little corner of Lecterland! Please enjoy!**

**AND I'M NOT AFRAID**

Hannibal sat in his car for several minutes before exiting. He leaned back with his eyes closed and breathed deeply relishing the adrenalin still flooding his system. He squeezed his fists, flexed his arms and the muscles of his torso feeling the power of his body's response to the sensory overload. He summoned it to remain just a bit longer buzzing through his body, alerting every nerve, every muscle fiber.

Adrenalin was a natural stimulant Hannibal enjoyed with zeal though he now rarely experienced the full measure of it. He had promised Clarice he would never kill for his own satisfaction though he would not hesitate to kill if threatened and he would not hesitate to thoroughly enjoy every minute of it without apology or regret.

_Clarice is perceptive. She will know…will she understand?_

Hannibal opened the car door and swung his leg out, his foot crunched atop a patch of hardened snow as he stepped out of his car. Smiling he mused at how tactilely similar the ice giving way under his foot was compared to the crush of his heel against the cartilaginous larynx of his attacker. He was also quite pleased that the dermis of the man's neck remained intact as he rather liked this particular pair of shoes and would not have been happy to have been rid of them. Luckily there had been no bloody foot prints or bruising impressions on the flesh left at the scene that would have made their disposal a necessity.

_All in all it was a rather enjoyable outing. Yes, that had been quite a pleasant surprise. _

Hannibal's eyes shifted to Clarice's car believing he could see the shadow of something within. He approached the Mustang to see the front seat pushed back to accommodate a large box wedged against the dashboard. He searched his key ring, opened her car and removed the package careful to sidestep the snow and ice that had accumulated from the previous day's snowfall.

Clarice heard Hannibal's car the moment he parked in front of the home. She had been watching the security monitor curious as to why he had not come in immediately. Saying nothing about his unusual behavior she opened the door and held it. As he passed she quickly scanned up and down the street to see if he had been watching anyone, or more to the point, if anyone had been watching _him_.

Hannibal immediately noticed her surveillance and called her on it, "No need to worry, Ex-Special Agent Starling you will not find anyone or anything amiss. I simply needed a few moments to…readjust."

Clarice didn't particularly like the sound of that.

_Readjust to what?_

She did not respond though she decided it would be best, in light of that comment, to survey his behavior carefully. Concerned as she was, Clarice kept her voice cheerful attempting to keep the mood light though she was alerted to possible trouble. She knew her husband well and was concerned. Something was a bit…off.

"Thanks for bringing that in for me, H. The box isn't so much heavy as it is bulky and Dev is taking up more and more room every day. I just couldn't wrap my arms around it."

"Not at all, Clarice." He kissed her cheek as he passed. "Where would you like me to place this?"

She rubbed his back as if the contact would reveal something to her. He was maddeningly agreeable though there seemed to be something simmering just below. Still watching very closely, Clarice directed him to the second floor.

"There's room on the floor in the baby's closet. Just until we need it. I think the seat will have to go in your car. The Mustang wouldn't be practical. If you don't mind, that is."

"I don't mind at all, Clarice. I would be more than happy to install the car seat as soon as you believe it is necessary."

"Soon, H…just in case the baby decides to make an early appearance."

Clarice continually smoothed her hands across her husband's shoulders. She loved the fact that he was so powerful, in fact deceptively, and often relied on his physicality now that her pregnancy compromised her own ease of movement. She laughed to herself that he was _technically_ a senior citizen as he was anything _but _that in her eyes.

Hannibal continued through the house with Clarice bouncing happily alongside. They entered the baby's room. Still breathing deeply from the adrenalin Hannibal's inhalations picked up the scent of Clarice already in the room.

"You have been in this room recently," he spoke it more as an observation than a question.

She cheerfully moved around him, "I was putting away some clothing and the rest of the things we needed in place before our little man gets here."

Hannibal stood beside the closet and waited for Clarice to open the door. He bent to place the box when suddenly his acute sense of smell caused him to lift his chin, gathering her scent. He stood and tracked the aroma to the shelf, his eyes flashed anger when they fell upon the gun display case he recognized as being John Brigham's.

_She handled that box within the hour…to what end?_

Hannibal was shocked and very disturbed by the unexpected pang of jealousy infiltrating his body. He swallowed hard as it choked the back of his throat the way smoke drifts under the door and fills a room thus smothering the occupants. The intrusive nature of the emotion clouded his thoughts. Deep and low as his voice rumbled, reflecting his angst, he posed his question as pointed as the hook of his Harpy.

His eyes glowed as if backlit by his intrusive thoughts, "Did you have need of a weapon in my absence, Clarice?"

Confused by his anger she questioned, "What?"

He rephrased the sentence and repeated his intolerant tone, "Your scent is on that box. You have handled it recently. _Did you have need of that weapon?"_

"No. I was just…" she stopped.

"You were just _what_, Clarice?" Hannibal's tone was now edged with aggression.

Clarice had been so excited to show her husband the things she purchased for their son that his tone hurt her feelings and that bothered her. She was angry with herself for feeling hurt. It seemed needy to her and if there was one thing that Clarice hated, it was neediness so conflicted she tried to process what was happening.

_He's jealous and angry…Brigham is dead. He isn't a romantic rival, never was…still it seems as if he doesn't trust me. He always trusts me. Something is different…Something's happened. What the fuck is going on!_

Clarice's feelings shifted quickly from hurt to a much more offensive stance. Never being the kind of woman to tuck tail and run, now frustrated, she challenged in return.

"What the hell are you insinuating, H?"

He glared at her, "I did not insinuate. I posed a question. I await an answer."

Clarice stepped closer leaving her face no more than a few inches from his. Anger hummed In the back of her throat as she raised her voice defensively and started to rant totally disappointed by his lack of trust in her.

"Remember who I am, H. I'm not involved in that circle of lackeys you are assembling . I'm not one of your new _'friends'._"

"You are more than aware that I have no want or need of friends. I socialize with _your _friends to make _you_ happy. Each additional person I offer my friendship to is a merely a cog in the wheel. You know I have a purpose, a specific goal in mind, Clarice. We have discussed this at length so please do not attempt to distract from the topic at hand. _I await your answer._"

Clarice strongly resented Hannibal's condescending and aggressive demand, "Well you can wait all goddamned day! You posed a question with a lot of jealousy and aggression behind it and I'm offended at the implication. You know goddamned well I didn't need a weapon and if I did it would've been my own, not my dead friend's. You're insinuating that I opened that box to relive some kind of pre-pubescent attachment…maybe it's true but it's none of your freaking business! You're waiting for an answer? Fuck you! You can wait till Hell freezes over before you get an answer from me! You want to know why I opened it…Open it yourself or maybe you're too afraid to find out."

He flashed his bright white teeth menacingly as he snarled, "I… Fear…._Nothing_."

The truth within the statement seemed almost a premonition.

Hannibal moved in closer. He pressed his face alongside hers, their cheeks touching as he growled low in her ear, "You know I will _never_ open that box, Clarice."

Clarice pushed him back, shoving his shoulders hard. She spat out in anger.

"Then fuck you you'll never find out!"

Hannibal lunged and grabbed her shoulders pressing her against the closet door. Though his face was fully flushed and his eyes were wild with rage he held her but did not press himself against her body, aware of the baby within. Raging, he growled out his jealousy and anger in a low deep, rumbling sound that emanated from his depths and burst from his throat exploding outward like the roar a lion… a warning.

_No Clarice…not yet…stay away._

His eyes were glazed over as he stared forward causing Clarice to shout in order to get his attention, "Hannibal!"

He was in an otherworldly place and she needed to bring him back to her. Clarice quickly grabbed both sides of his head and turned his face to hers. She looked deep within his eyes and searched them for what she prayed she would not see. Her heart sank in her chest like a stone tumbling to the bottom of a lakebed. The flood of her fears overtook her.

"Oh my God H…Who _was_ it?"

He heard the fear in her voice and though he did not regret the lives he took he did not wish to be the cause of her upset. To comfort his wife he rested his head on her shoulder and whispered, his lips touching her neck as he spoke within her ear nothing more than her name, "Clariiice."

She pulled his head back, reached again for his face and held her eyes on his.

"Your eyes…that…glow…I know that look. Hannibal…_Hannibal!_ Who did you _kill _tonight?"

He stood, staring forward remembering her words and hoping she did as well.

_I know your Nature and I'm not afraid._

He held her gaze, his eyes just slightly softer now. Standing in their baby's room he did not want to speak of death.

He whispered, "Clarice…Please, not here. Not in _this _place."

"What difference does it make where? What? Because we're in the baby's room? Were you thinking about our baby when you killed tonight? Were you thinking about me?"

"Yes…I was thinking of the baby. I was thinking of you. I vowed I would come back to you…at all cost."

"I goddamned want to know who and why and you better not say Bloom! _Hannibal tell me who!"_

He was disappointed in her tone but he understood it. She was enraged because she believed he was being careless, though nothing, in his mind, could be further from the truth. She spoke his given name as if it were poison sucked from a wound and spat out on the ground.

_Hannibal…not H. _

He began quietly, "Two men… Not Bloom."

"_Two men_! You killed _two men_ tonight? What the fuck, H?"

She quickly pulled him by the hand as if he were a petulant boy. She dragged him with her to the loveseat nestled under the window. It was carefully placed as they intended to read to their child together. For now it was a place of anger and recrimination.

Clarice was overwrought and pointing an accusatory finger at him she stabbed the air as she warned, "You will tell me _everything,_ H…_All _of it. You don't leave _one_ detail out_. Understood? Agreed?_"

_She called me H…she is willing to consider that I had no choice. Brave Clarice…you are my warrior._

He held up a hand in compliance, "Understood…Agreed."

Clarice asked him to speak of blood and of death in their baby's room and Hannibal left out no detail. He explained where he was and what had happened. She sat with her hands wrapped protectively around the baby. There was no anger or judgment on her face. She not only heard what he said…she listened. When he finished the explanation she paused, processing.

"Okay so you had no choice. They probably would have killed you."

"I made every effort to avoid the confrontation. When it became inevitable, my focus shifted. Yes. They would have killed me. One of them wanted my eyes."

"Your _eyes_…he told you he wanted your eyes? Jesus…_Jesus._"

"Yes, I believe he meant to kill me, pluck them out of my head and pop them in a bottle of alcohol…a trophy of sorts."

Clarice looked him in the eyes, the worry evident. She didn't believe she _needed _to ask the question but she wanted confirmation, "Speaking of trophies…you didn't use your Harpy did you? You didn't…bring anything home?"

Hannibal reached for Clarice's hand and held it.

"Clarice, I would never. I promised you I would kill only in defense and I promised you I would never again ingest human flesh. I kept those promises. I will always keep my promises, but I never promised you, if forced to kill, that I wouldn't…enjoy it."

"I know, H…I know who you are and I don't care if you loved every goddamned minute of it. As a matter of fact I am certain you had a real party tonight so good for you. You got them. They didn't get you. That's all I care about."

"Though I would not have lied to you, Clarice I must admit I was concerned. After all, some women would find that fact…off putting. I wondered if you thought I had changed."

"I'm not _most women _.Honestly, what the hell have you been thinking? I _married_ you. I love _you_. I wouldn't change you if I could. You enjoyed killing them? Good, they would have enjoyed killing you. For all I care as long as you came home to me you could have played maracas with their jawbones and the xylophone on their ribs for all I give a damn. You think I believed you suddenly found killing assholes against your delicate sensibilities…that you were somehow miraculously cured?"

"I don't know…I _am_ attempting to be more…"

"Normal?"

"Yes."

"To keep me?"

"If need be…Yes."

"H… Brigham was normal. Crawford was normal. I don't _do_ normal. The pleasure you take in killing, as long as it's_ justified_, isn't even on my radar. My concern is that you do so only to protect yourself or our family. This is a tenuous situation we are in with Bloom. If we can't get past him…we won't be able to return to this area and even though I really love our compound in Argentina, I'm getting really attached to this house as well."

"I am aware of that Clarice. I have planned for Bloom."

"Think…is there anything that ties you to that scene because if there is we are on the next flight out of here. I'll have my baby in Argentina before I'll see you locked up again. Is there anything you might have missed?"

Hannibal was confident. As usual, his foes were no match to his intellect. All contingencies had been considered and allowances had been made for every possible outcome. There was nothing to tie him to the scene or the crime.

"Anyone coming upon it will conclude the men killed each other. There is in fact video proving they entered the area alone. I was aware of the surveillance cameras and stayed out of range. The only camera that could have picked up my movements, I shifted."

"You're sure of that?"

"Yes, Clarice…I am without question."

Clarice now understood that Hannibal's earlier aggression was the adrenalin surges she had seen in him before, his heightened jealousy a reflection of his love. She released his hand, stood, crossed the room, opened the closet and reached up to the box on the shelf. She took it down and carried it to Hannibal.

"I want to show you something, H."

Clarice opened the box and very carefully lifted the weapon along with its insert placing them on the loveseat beside her. She tilted the box toward Hannibal so that he could clearly see the contents.

Hannibal quickly looked away. "I don't want to see what you have placed within that box, Clarice. You were correct. It is not my business."

"H…Look. Please."

Though Hannibal had no shame in him, not in penitence but out of respect to his wife's privacy, he held his head low and continued to avert his eyes. "You have nothing to prove to me, Clarice."

She spoke with the quiet confidence he was accustomed to, the anger gone, "I'm not trying to prove a thing to you. You know me, H… I wouldn't. I'm trying to _share_ something with you."

Hannibal looked up, first to her eyes where he saw only love and acceptance, then to the contents of the box. There, just beneath the note he had written tonight, were all of the notes and drawings he had ever sent her wrapped in a deep maroon ribbon obviously being treasured.

Clarice was embarrassed and a little wary of his response, "I told you it was a pre-pubescent attachment…I put them here because I knew you would never open that box. I didn't want you to laugh at me. You probably think it's immature and silly."

Hannibal was already emotional, the adrenalin still coursing through every fiber of his being.

"I don't think it's silly nor do I find it immature. Aside from giving birth to my son, this is the most loving gift I have ever received. No one has ever been to me what you are. No one could ever be to me what you are. With you…I am _loved._ With you _I _love. I would never have been able to speak those words if not for you. You are above All because you accept me for who I am…for _what_ I am. You know my Nature..."

She understood his meaning, leaned over and spoke the words within the kiss she pressed gently against his lips.

"…and I'm not afraid."

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Review and tell me what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH**


	85. Chapter 85

**I hope that all of my American friends had a wonderful Thanksgiving. To my fan fic friends thank you so much for your patience. My husband came home this Tuesday after spending two full months in the hospital. Thanks so much for all of the well wishes my very faithful friends! Your support and kind words of encouragement have meant so very much to me.**

**LH**

**DISCLAIMER: No I didn't create them. I don't own them. Lord knows I make no money from them but God knows I love to take them out to play!**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!**

**LECTER THE PROTECTOR**

Hannibal woke early and began the preparations for his meeting with Bloom returning to his study just after breakfast emerging hours later, long enough to prepare an afternoon meal for Clarice. She was confused when he set out the food but did not join her. She sat for what she believed would be lunch with her husband to find he would not partake.

She stood in front of the table questioning the one place setting, "What gives, H? Not eating?"

Hannibal pulled out her chair, waited for her to sit, placed a napkin over her lap and gently pushed her closer to the table, ever aware of her burgeoning belly.

"No, Clarice. I wish to be hungry in mind and body. I must be focused."

Clarice lifted the spoon to her lips, blowing on the bowl of it to cool the homemade soup.

"Can't you just eat a little bit? You didn't have much to eat this morning either. What did you have, coffee… maybe a croissant?"

Hannibal took a seat across from her and folded one leg over the other. Relaxed, he clasped his hands over one knee, tilted his head slightly and smiled as he watched her eat. His voice was low and smooth as he sought to reassure, "You needn't worry about me my Love. I've had enough to maintain my blood sugar and my electrolytes. It wouldn't due to have all of the blood rushing to my digestive system. Though I have little respect for the man I do not underestimate his intellect or his abilities. I would have my wits about me when I face him."

Clarice tilted her head to the side, mimicking the gesture he often used when thinking or challenging her. When she continued to stare, smirked and arched an eyebrow he recognized that she was teasing him and wagged a finger at her in mock disapproval.

"While I am certain you find my preparations to be…" Hannibal paused, not in confusion but more to measure his thoughts unsure of how far he wished to take the conversation.

Clarice covered the silence, "Obsessive the word you're looking for?"

He smoothed a steady palm over his forehead and swept his hair from his face. Again, his response was measured as this topic was one he long avoided with Clarice.

"…thorough is more accurate, though I would understand how you might see it as such."

Clarice was aware of the somber tone her husband reflected and set her spoon down, considering him very carefully as she spoke, "I can't see it any other way. I know this meeting is serious…I do…but you are taking this to a whole new level. You're not meeting with Moriarty, Sherlock."

Hannibal crossed his arms over his chest and inhaled deeply. After a long exhalation he responded, "I will ignore the offhanded nature of that comment because you do not understand the situation or your past participation in it."

Clarice suddenly saw just the slightest hint of vulnerability in her husband. It was almost imperceptible but she recognized it. "Okay, H…I'm sorry. What situation are you referring to and what do you mean my past participation in it?"

"Chilton was very thorough in his explanations of _their_ methods. The treatments were quite brutal."

"Treatments?"

"Chilton and Bloom were convinced they would be able to unlock the secrets of the sociopathic or psychopathic mind if they were somehow able to quantify me. They made it their mission to crack me, to unlock my mind so to speak. I would not allow the intrusion thus the_ treatments_ became more and more…intrusive."

"Did they hurt you? Physically?"

"Yes, though that was not the worst of it. Physical pain can be compartmentalized and can thus be ignored. No the most intrusive treatments involved their idea of degradation…humiliation. Though I never felt degraded myself, the process was tedious…very tedious."

Clarice continued to eat, not realizing the direction the conversation was taking. "You said I participated…what do you mean?"

Hannibal uncrossed his legs and leaned over the table. His arms still crossed, he rested his forearms on the table and leaned over, his voice barely registered above a whisper, "Your participation was designed to be a part of that degradation Clarice, though your intrinsic morality and courage nullified their intent. You were sent to…stimulate me."

Clarice choked on her soup. "What do you mean? I would never be a part of anything like that!"

Hannibal was careful in his explanation. He did not want his wife to believe he thought her in any way complicit in the process, "Clarice, you were not the first woman they dangled in front of me to…entice me. Though I must admit that after my reaction to the previous attempt, they did not dare bring you in direct contact with me."

His wife was curious and it reflected in her tone, "Why… what'd do, H?"

A spark of mischief reflected within his maroon irises like light off a ruby, "Let us say the nurse they convinced to participate in their experiment did not fare well."

"Is that the chick whose tongue you ate? Chilton carried her photo in his wallet. He showed it to me just before I came down to see you."

"He believed incorrectly that seeing the image would frighten you. He also believed, incorrectly that sensing your fear would stimulate me."

"Sexually?"

"That was his intent. He and Bloom tried desperately to attach carnal motivations to my behaviors. As a sort of experiment they convinced the nurse to speak to me in a sexually suggestive manner. They wished to see how I would respond if…aroused."

"She did what exactly?"

"She made sexually explicit suggestions."

"So of course you ate her tongue."

Hannibal smiled a wicked smile, the centers of his irises sparking like flaming pinwheels as he imagined the moment, "Let us just say that I removed the offending organ."

Clarice shook her head, her hair tumbling over her shoulders capturing her husband's attention though she remained endearingly oblivious, "I still don't get how you think I was part of their plan?"

Hannibal hovered a palm over the table for a moment moving it up and down absentmindedly as if stacking the memories one atop the other.

He spoke very calmly, "Apparently they saw me as an aggressive individual and had assumed I would be stimulated by a sexually aggressive female. They left me alone with her in the hopes that I might…well, whatever their hope, I was less than cooperative."

"How far were they planning on taking that?"

"I wouldn't dare to venture a guess though the woman was extremely graphic. Had I taken her up on her offer, no doubt I would have had rape charges to deal with as well."

"What's that got to do with me?" Clarice questioned, obviously upset at the insinuation.

"When that plan did not work, they extrapolated that perhaps I would be attracted to someone more vulnerable. They turned to Jack Crawford and together…they chose you and they chose well, Clarice. I found you then and still find you to be absolutely irresistible. I was quite taken with you, though I was careful that it not to be seen as such. Know that it was very, very difficult to watch you leave assuming I would never see you again."

_People will say we're in love. _

"Jesus…I had no idea. I feel like an idiot…how could I have been so goddamned blind?"

Hannibal reached across the table and held her hand, smoothing his remaining hand lightly over hers.

"You could not recognize the devious undertones because you do not operate on that level. I recognized that instantaneously. You were not afraid to break the rules in order to be courteous even though you had been instructed against that. That is why I chose to speak to you. Why I chose to help you."

_Accept nothing from him._

"When I took the towel offered to me from the carrier?"

"Precisely…a token of respect and comfort offered and accepted. You treated me humanely and showed no fear. It was quite disarming."

Clarice held his large hands within hers and squeezed them, emphasizing her sentiment, "I'm sorry to have been the cause of your discomfort, H."

Hannibal kissed his wife's hand. "You have nothing of which to be sorry. You were unaware of their perverse motivations and I took great pleasure being in your company."

Clarice whispered as if in danger of being overheard, "They'll be here soon. What do you want me to do?"

"If Bloom wishes to speak with you, and I assume he will, be honest with him. We have nothing to hide. Share with him whatever you are comfortable sharing. I will handle the rest."

"I trust you to take care of this for our family, H."

"I will do all to protect what is ours my Love."

Clarice nodded, "I know, H…I know."

"I will be in my study awaiting his arrival." Hannibal stood beside Clarice and bent to kiss her. He then turned to leave the room.

Clarice left her husband to his thoughts. She simply touched his hand for a moment as he passed her to go to his study.

They had in their time together learned much about one another. Hannibal learned to trust his wife in all things. Clarice, for her part, learned how to read his needs though they were few. Most importantly she learned, though he would ask for neither, when he needed her thoughts and when he needed only his own. This day, he needed only her presence for comfort. Her silence in that moment spoke her love to him.

Hannibal withdrew and took his place behind the large ornately carved antique desk as if it were the battlement from which he would defend his family. He sat with his eyes closed and his fingers steepled tapping them against pursed lips as he forced himself to visit the portion of his memory palace he had barricaded long ago.

_Now moving very cautiously, almost tentatively within his memory palace he approached the door to a long ignored though not forgotten room. The door Hannibal stood before was identical in design to his cell front at BSFH made with thick clear plexiglass though the height was twice the size. Above the lintel was written, STANZA SENZA SPERANZA. Hannibal paused, drew in the deepest of breaths, and holding the air within his lungs as if drawing in courage and containing it, slid open the door. _

_His body sitting very still within his study Hannibal Lecter flinched at the assaultive and intrusive rush of sensory input that his current happiness bade him to long ignore. Travelling with the walls of his memory palace, down the long corridor of the Baltimore State Forensic Hospital Hannibal could hear the all too familiar ambient sounds of that place. The oppressive metallic clanking of locks sliding home, unforgiving bars being railed against with objects, and fists, and floods of anger. The rank smell of the musty, dungeon-like, air packed its way into his nose and drove down the back of his throat, drowning him in a tsunami of mold and misery._

_Hannibal, the aspects of both Man and Beast dwelling within him as if he were the duality of Nature personified, was both seated at his desk and standing in front of his cell. He attempted to limit his respirations though to no avail. His chest burned, his ribs ached, crushed from want of air as he defiantly withheld the earlier inhalation. Finally, when his body was forced to overrule his willpower he haltingly drew in the dreaded breath and retched at the raw stench of desperation and fear. _

_The scent of old urine, fecal matter and fresh ejaculate mixed with the faded aftereffects of industrial cleaners not often used, the offensive olfactory assault caused warm saliva to flood his mouth. Hannibal swallowed hard choking back burning bile as the gorge rose up the back of his throat._

_Hannibal now forced himself to re-explore the sensation of being strapped to the hand truck, trussed from head to toe as he cursed the hyper-sensitivity of his own olfactory system. As a control method, Chilton had insisted Hannibal's bite mask not be cleaned. Once, when Hannibal had been subjected to a particularly difficult__** therapeutic**__ session involving electric stimulation he vomited while wearing the mask. The emetic aftereffects burned his sinuses combining with the stale scent of exfoliation, sweat and saliva clinging to the inside of the restraint mask etched deeply into his sense memory._

_The leather straps of his memory seemed to be pulled much tighter than was the norm as Hannibal intentionally mutilated his psyche with these angst riddled recollections. The belts were so tight, the mask pressed so firmly against his skin that Hannibal could feel the cross-hatched weave of the fiberglass imprinting on his flesh. His throat ached, his flaring nostrils acidic from the stench of aged bodily fluids and decay. His eyes closed tightly he could feel his pounding pulse as it drummed against the leather straps the cold of the steel buckles caused his head to throb._

_Hannibal experienced the memories of that horrific place before Clarice, before hope, when the imago of Bloom was synonymous with rage. Hannibal picked at the scabs of his memories, opening the weeping sores of his past causing the blood of his anguish to flow. He would not face Bloom with thoughts of his wife or thought of his child. He would not face him with love in his heart. He would face Bloom looking back at the man from the gaping wounds that Bloom created. _

_Bloom would not be meeting with Hannibal the Husband or Hannibal the Father, he would face Lecter the Protector the Guardian of the crystalline door marked My Family. Should Bloom choose to approach that door…should Protector be unleashed, Hannibal swore on all that he was, he would make Bloom would pay dearly for his insolence. He vowed with the stench of memory swirling in his nostrils that Bloom if he threatened the solemnity of his family, the sacred union between wife and husband and son that Bloom would pray for death. Much like Hannibal's childhood prayers…the Protector swore that the insolent man's prayers too, would go unanswered._

_The doorbell rang, jolting Hannibal back from his restraint mask to the comfort of his desk chair. Hannibal breathed in and out as deeply as his physiology would allow as he attempted to purge the scents and sounds of the Room without Hope. Hannibal Lecter wanted nothing more than to thumb open his harpy and kill Bloom before he breached the doorway but Hannibal would not be selfish. He had a child to consider. He had Clarice to consider. If he were to kill Bloom…he would need a reason._

_Lulled into a false sense of security by the friends Hannibal had cultivated within the FBI, truly unaware of the danger Hannibal still presented, Bloom… would foolishly soon oblige him._

**Thanks for reading! Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**_**  
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	86. Chapter 86

**Welcome back to No More a Savage Life: Chapter Two**

**Remember your Three R's- Relax, Read, and Review! Enjoy my dedicated friends!**

**CLARICE VERSES BLOOM**

Clarice startled at the sound of the doorbell, unusual for her as the cheerful chime normally represented a degree of anticipation. It usually signaled the welcoming sound of visiting friends or a package arriving with the mail. Today it symbolized anxiety, judgment, even anguish. It reminded her of the short time in Argentina when she and Hannibal were living under their aliases. Then as today, the doorbell signaled the possibility of discovery…danger. Today it too signaled the potential for a life changing event. The nervous wife moved quickly to the door, opened it and was relieved to see Will Graham had indeed accompanied Doctor Bloom as promised.

"Hey Will, good to see you again," Clarice swung the door open.

"Hey Clarice, good to see you too, you remember Doctor Bloom? He's here to see your husband."

Clarice offered her hand in greeting to both men. When shaking Bloom's her grip was exceptionally firm belying her trepidation. She stepped to the side and beckoned them enter.

"Yes, welcome to our home, Doctor Bloom. Please come in."

Clarice had picked up several of Hannibal's habits during their marriage. She had developed a keen and cautious eye as an FBI agent and had been drilled to assume innocence before guilt though it was often difficult as circumstances often colored her perception. As Hannibal's wife, under his tutelage, her assessment of individuals was uncolored.

_Of each particular thing ask what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do this man you seek?_

She no longer made any assumption of innocence, or any assumption of personal safety. All were a possible threat to their happiness before the relief of the pardon. It became second nature to quickly evaluate people and circumstances. Upon evaluating Bloom, Clarice understood her husband's concern.

There was an unspoken arrogance about this man. His ego would be such that it would be difficult for him to turn from an opinion. It would be a challenge for him to admit his assessment of Hannibal was wrong. This clearly made him a threat to the safety of their family. She watched the smaller man with the round, kind face and remembered the things her husband told her about him. Had she not known his association with Chilton and the pain he caused her husband she might have thought of the man kindly. Seeing him now through Hannibal's blood red eyes, Bloom was anything but kind.

The three very different individuals with the extremely different agendas stood together in a semi-circle in the foyer of the home. Clarice turned away from the grouping for a moment and considered where to take them. She believed she could smell the fireplace in the family room.

Deciding Bloom should make the decision, she spoke with confidence, "Well we have a couple of options so I'll ask your opinion, Doctor Bloom. Hannibal is in his study and I didn't know whether or not you wanted to go straight in or if you wanted to build up to it. I know he's…well most people are a bit afraid of him and sometimes need to settle themselves down and work up their nerve. Whatever you prefer, I'd be happy to oblige."

Will took control of the situation as Bloom stood quietly, his intent unknown.

"Clarice, Doctor Bloom would like to ask you a few questions about your husband if you don't mind. I'll go in and talk to Hanni…Doctor Lecter."

Clarice nodded her agreement, "Sure…you know where it is. Go on ahead."

Will subconsciously touched a hand to the hooking scar on his side. Bloom noted, "Are you uncomfortable with this Will? I'd understand if you can't handle it."

"I'm fine Doctor Bloom. You don't have to worry about me. Doctor Lecter has nothing to gain by hurting anyone. He's changed thanks to his love for his wife. When you talk to him you'll see that you have nothing to worry about. All he wants to do is live his life. Maybe we can help him with that."

Bloom removed his hat and gloves stuffing them within the hat as he spoke. Clarice took his coat and hat and placed them within the hallway closet. Will waved a hand, preferring to keep his leather jacket on pulling it around him like a security blanket.

Bloom's tone was flippant, "We shall see…after all he was living his life quite successfully as he was committing his crimes. No one guessed what he was up to behind the scenes."

Clarice slammed the closet door closed and turned, obviously taking offense for Hannibal.

"Hey…he's my husband and I'm standing right here! You think you might want to check that attitude at the door? I thought this was going to be an honest assessment and you seem to have already made a judgment. I'm about a minute from asking you to leave myself. You won't have to worry about my husband, Doctor Bloom. If I think you're trying to railroad him…I'll tear you apart myself."

Will raised a consoling hand, "It isn't like that, Clarice. No one is going to railroad your husband. Maybe it would be a good idea to announce that it'll be just me at first?"

Clarice did not shift her eyes from Bloom as she answered Will. She decided to add a fact to her answer she believed might raise Bloom's blood pressure, "No…he'll know it's just you before you get down the hall."

Bloom raised his pompous chin questioning Clarice, "I understand that he'll know there is only one of us when he hears the footsteps coming down the hall. He'll also know it isn't you because of the difference between male and female shoes striking the hardwood floors."

Clarice stared the man down. _I'll freak you out you little shit._ "While I'm sure you believe it is a parlor trick, he will know each one of us individually and not by the sound of our goddamned shoes. He'll know exactly who is coming down the hall because he will identify you specifically by your personal _scent_. He remembers your smell and will recognize it instantly."

_That's the same atrocious after shave you wore in court. Has a little ship on the bottle does it not?_

"Oh yeah…I forgot about that. You okay with answering Doctor Bloom's questions? Do you want to check with your husband first?"

Clarice shook her head, still staring at Bloom, "No, we don't have that kind of relationship. I don't check with him before I make decisions. He trusts me implicitly."

Bloom baited Clarice clumsily, "Are you sure, Mrs. Lecter? I wouldn't want to upset your husband or be the cause of an argument between you."

Clarice turned, faced Bloom and crossed her arms in defiance, "_Really?_ Do you think I'm going to be _that_ _easy_? Do you actually think _Hannibal Lecter_, a man whose intellect is unsurpassed_,_ would be attracted to a woman who bowed down before him or would fall for that poorly disguised bait_? You wouldn't want to cause an argument? _Are you fucking _kidding_ me?"

"My apologies…I shouldn't have assumed," Bloom was embarrassed at the transparency of his plan.

Clarice was beginning to lose her temper. The obvious prejudice Bloom had against Hannibal incensed her, "No, you shouldn't have but it isn't the first assumption you've made about my husband."

Bloom's eyes widened, "What do you mean? I've made no previous assumptions about your husband, _Mrs. Lecter_."

Clarice raged defensively, "First of all modify the way you say my husband's surname. You speak his name as if it's profane and I'm offended by your tone and yes, you _have _made assumptions. You _assumed _that much like yourself my husband might find a stranger's pornographic suggestions enticing didn't you _Doctor_? So sorry he disappointed you. Unlike you and your equally inept colleague Mr. Chilton, sexually aggressive nurses aren't his thing."

Both Bloom and Graham stood staring silently at each other, unsure of what to say.

Clarice continued her proselytizing, "Let us be clear before we all get off on the wrong foot. My husband, the man I love, _expected_ you to have questions for me. If you think there is anything in the back of your mind that he hasn't considered you can think again and in the interest of full disclosure let me be infinitely clear that nothing you say or do will _ever _be a shock to him. You are not merely an open book you are a pane of glass…that transparent are your motivations to him."

Clarice spun on her heel and faced Will Graham. The moment she turned her attention to Graham he flinched as if her words had heft to them the weight of which would cause injury.

He stood deadly still with his mouth agape as she confidently directed, "We'll be in the family room if you need us," she pointed over his shoulder, "It's that room, just across the hall from the dining room. Tell H I'll bring Doctor Bloom in when we've finished. Whatever else you choose to share is your own affair. Know that I will tell him everything so you needn't filter what you say. He and I have no secrets."

Graham raised a questioning eyebrow to Bloom. Bloom answered the unspoken query, "Will please tell Doctor Lecter that I will speak with his wife then I will join him. If it seems he is upset or if he seems to have any misgivings, please make note of it. You needn't question him. Merely observe and report."

"You want me to come and tell you if he seems upset?" Will questioned.

"No. There's no need for you to do that as his anger won't alter my actions… simply make note of it."

Clarice felt a well of anger begin to rise within her as she processed the last sentence.

_What the hell does he mean by saying 'his anger won't alter my actions' or 'make note of it'? He wants Graham to act like a fucking spy! He doesn't even give a shit if talking to me upsets Hannibal he just wants to know about it? Oh I don't blame you for hating this asshole, H…he's lucky we have each other or I'm sure you'd make quick work of him! This fucker may not have to worry about your Harpy. I may go upstairs and get my Colt and aerate is obnoxious ass!_

Clarice's mood shifted and smiled when she and Bloom entered the family room. Hannibal had obviously assumed they would use this room as he had built a cozy fire and stacked it high with logs. He also marked his territory by uncharacteristically leaving out personal possessions. The radiating warmth from the fireplace and seeing Hannibal's presence in the room comforted Clarice as was Hannibal's intent.

Bloom would not sit in the chair immediately beside the fireplace as it was obviously Hannibal's place. The book he had been reading was intentionally placed on the arm of the chair and was left open to the last chapter read. Clarice took her chair beside Hannibal's next to the fireplace following Hannibal's covert direction thus forcing Bloom to the couch.

_Yea, you're not getting me on your couch you half-witted fucking Freud wannabe. It'll be a cold day in hell before you get the upper hand on me or my husband. Well played, H…well played._

Clarice took a page from Hannibal's book of self-control and restrained her aggression, "Please make yourself comfortable, Doctor Bloom. Can I offer you anything?"

Bloom pulled a small pad from his jacket pocket, removed a pen from his shirt pocket protector and began to click away at the pen top nervously, "No, thank you Mrs. Lecter though let me first apologize for what you perceived was rude behavior. It just seemed so awkward for me to say _Misses _in front of the name Lecter."

Clarice could feel her blood simmering within her and wondered how the hell her husband could reign in his aggressive nature and _not_ kill this man. She lifted the book her husband left on his chair and snapped it shut loudly, indirectly demonstrating her anger. She hugged the book to her chest as if drawing her husband close for comfort and calm.

"Is that pathetic explanation what passes for an apology in your world Doctor Bloom? Are you meaning to be continually offensive or does it come so naturally to you to degrade my husband that you are actually unaware of it?"

Bloom's eyes shifted quickly to Clarice. He had not expected the response he received, though he certainly should have. Her aggression surprised him.

_Hannibal Lecter would not choose a weak woman to share his life nor would he sire a child with someone he considered deficient. Personality wise, she's a good match for him…aggressive…intelligent…the physical attraction is obvious. They are well-suited. She is a strong personality and she can obviously stand up for herself to me…to Hannibal Lecter…that remains to be seen._

Clarice took her seat and faced Bloom. She surveyed _her_ reaction to him and was amazed that he seemed to lack the emotional depth she believed necessary for a person in the field of psychiatry.

Though his expertise was Forensic Psychology she assumed Bloom would have some insight or a modicum of intuitive sense. Hannibal's perception and psychic tools were like lasers, direct and intense. His obvious intelligence was beyond assessment and his intuition was not only legendary, it was frightening. He had the ability after a few pointed questions or a brief conversation to cut through proverbial blood, bone, and muscle of a person's very essence. He could assess their strengths and weaknesses, and drive the dagger of their own personality flaws home. He could cure or encourage self-destruction with a whim. Bloom had no such tools and thus no such ability though he claimed as such.

Clarice was unimpressed.

Bloom made a mark on his pad, "So…you and your husband, Doctor Lecter…you are happily married?"

"I'm married to a man and his name is Hannibal. His patients called him Doctor Lecter. I am not his patient so I call him H and yes. We are very happily married."

"H? Why H?"

"It's just a nickname…H as in Husband."

"Not H as in Hannibal?"

"I couldn't call him Hannibal publicly."

"You went with him willingly?"

"Yes."

"You remain with him…willingly?"

"Yes, and he remains with me willingly."

"Are you ever afraid when you are with him?"

"Yes."

"In what way?"

"I'm afraid he'll wake up and realize that I'm not as intelligent or as artistic as he. The only thing I'm afraid of is that he may leave me. That is the only fear I have in regards to my husband."

"Physically you aren't afraid of him?"

"Why the hell would I be afraid of him physically…He loves me. He would never hurt me."

"Does he ever lose patience with you?"

"Not without cause."

"What might cause him to lose patience with you?"

"I imagine it would be the same things that might cause any husband to lose patience with his wife."

"You don't care to offer any examples?"

"None come to mind. He doesn't have a specific trigger that sets him off and when I mean he loses patience I don't mean he becomes aggressive. I mean that he becomes…irritated. Hannibal is a very patient man. He'd have to be to put up with me."

"What do you mean, put up with you?"

"I can be a bit…overbearing at times. He's comfortable in his manhood and isn't intimidated by an emotionally strong woman. He isn't threatened by strength. He is attracted to it."

"Speaking of attraction…" Bloom paused. He wanted to choose his words carefully.

"You want to know about our sex life?"

"Well…the child…?"

"This child is the first born son of Hannibal Lecter and for anyone who doubts that fact I will be perfectly happy to submit to a DNA test."

"I didn't intend to insinuate differently."

"Sure you did. You are just like everyone else. He isn't human to you. You see that I am pregnant and you think…because you see him as less than a man, that he doesn't make love. That he is incapable of it. It's easier for you to see him as some sort of animal and imagine that a woman having sex with him would be participating in an act of bestiality. Difficult as it is for people to believe, my husband and I have a perfectly satisfying and perfectly conventional physical relationship. He is an attentive and thorough lover and I will admit that our sex life is…well…to put it delicately… in his arms and in his bed I am physically and emotionally fulfilled."

Bloom was abashed at Clarice's forward nature as she discussed her physical relationship with her husband. He stammered his clarification, "Then when you are...having physical relations…you feel loved?"

"I feel loved. I feel absorbed. I feel engulfed. He is an intensely overwhelming man and is capable of so much more than anyone knows. He is attentive, emotionally available and very, very loving. He is everything I ever wanted or needed in a man. He is my life."

"If he is your life, what will your child be?"

"The symbol of all that we are. The joining of heart and mind and body and soul, this child represents our lives…together. Hannibal is my life…the baby is _our_ lives…_our Love_."

"Soul?"

"Yes. I believe that Hannibal Lecter has a soul. Does that concept disturb you in some way?"

"I would think, if you believe in the soul as the vessel for goodness and the conveyance by which a person enters the afterlife…his previous…behaviors might prove to be a stumbling block for Doctor Lecter's entry into eternal bliss."

"How do you figure?"

"He ate people."

"Catholics believe in transubstantiation and believe, as they consume the host, that it is the actual presence of Jesus Christ. This is my blood, fruit of the everlasting vine…it shall be shed for you and for all men that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me. If you want forgiveness…you ask for it."

"That's Christian. Hannibal Lecter is Christian?"

"Hannibal Lecter is Catholic."

"Practicing?"

"Not publicly, though he may be having thoughts about that. I can't speak for him."

"Has he attended Mass recently?"

"We went together at Christmas. I know he has visited the church since that time, though I don't know if he attended an actual Mass. He enjoys the tranquility of churches. I know he is a student of architecture and religious iconography. He experiences things on so many different levels that I can only approach an understanding."

"You believe his mind processes differently than yours? "

"I don't believe it… I know it. His mind processes kind of the way airplanes stack up over an airport, but Hannibal would be able to do so much more than control the air traffic. He would be aware of all of the destinations and would plan the arrivals and departures in detail. He would contemplate the lives of the passengers at the same time he checked on the functionality of each engine in his fleet. He would be capable of listening to the movies playing on the flights while at the same time listening to all of the conversations in each of the cockpits all the while considering quantum physics, and weather patterns."

"I find that hard to believe. After all, most people can't even walk and chew gum at the same time. A lot has been said about his mind. He is intelligent. There is no doubt of that, anything beyond that seems more of fantasy…more of legend and less of man."

"You studied him…you know I'm telling the truth. He can run several trains of thought, detailed trains of thought, simultaneously, all while composing a sonata or an etude. He is a singular human. Perhaps the most evolved mind of our time. I feel honored to be with him…to have been chosen by him. You have always underestimated him."

"He is a charming and manipulative man. It wouldn't be difficult for a well-bred and well-read man to approach genius. Perhaps it is more likely that _you_ overestimate _him_."

"It is impossible to overestimate that which cannot be quantified."

Bloom simply nodded. He hadn't even considered that Hannibal might have a spiritual side to him, or an emotional side. Bloom understood the intellect and he understood the anger, the rage, he even understood the drive to kill but love and Hannibal Lecter? It seemed an oxymoron and Bloom could not justify it. There was only one question he truly wanted Clarice to answer, he posed it and poised his pen for her response.

"He married you and now, he seems domesticated almost. I don't know maybe emasculated is the word I'm looking for. Do you believe him to be _cured_?"

"First of all my husband is anything but emasculated so just trust me when I say his genitals are intact and very... very impressive. As to your question, I don't believe him to be cured because I do not believe there was ever anything wrong with him. He made choices I did not agree with. I am certain the behaviors of my past were equally distasteful to him. We have agreed that he will no longer make those choices."

"Do you believe that? Do you believe he can control that? Do you believe you have control over him?"

"More than I have ever believed anyone. I trust him without reservation with my life and the life of my child. He would die before he would hurt us or allow anyone else to hurt us. There is no other person living or dead that I can say that about and no I don't believe I have control over him. He's a grown ass man! I have no need to control him."

Bloom looked down at his notes. He scribbled the words _Die_ and _Hurt_ on his pad as she said them, though he didn't know why. He clicked his pen closed and tucked it in his shirt pocket, sliding it into a plastic pocket protector. "We've finished here. Thank you for your participation, Mrs. Lecter. It has been enlightening."

Bloom closed his pad and stood silently, waiting for Clarice's lead. He had gotten all he needed from her. It was time to talk to the man himself if indeed there is man at all within the Monster Bloom believed Hannibal Lecter to be. Bloom walked down the long hallway from the family room to Hannibal Lecter's study as he considered whether or not Hannibal Lecter could actually identify him by scent, like an animal. He found the thought to be a bit…disconcerting.

Doctor Alan Bloom had finished his talk with Hannibal Lecter's Beauty. He realized that he must now face the Beast. He knew Hannibal's Nature and Bloom was afraid.

**Review and let me know what you think then PM and say hi!**

_**Thanks so much to all of my friends who review with such regularity. I find your words to be amusing, thoughtful and many times, inspirational. Know how much I appreciate your input. I offer my most sincere thanks for your dedication. NEXT…BLOOM VERSES HANNIBAL!**_

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH**


	87. Chapter 87

**Welcome back my friends! As this chapter evolved it ran well over 6,000 words- a bit much for one chapter. I've divided it into two parts. The second section will be posted tomorrow- I'm almost finished with it Enjoy!**

**Hannibal verses Bloom: Part One**

"They are approaching," Hannibal stated calmly to Will Graham.

Graham appeared confused, "I don't hear them."

"Neither do I. Not yet anyway," Hannibal commented, enjoying the fear and ever present anxiety simmering from Graham.

_You stink of fear and that cheap lotion..._

"So, you really can _smell_ them?" he asked, incredulous. "I swear I'll never get over the fact that you can actually do that."

Hands folded loosely on the surface of his desk he explained, "We all have the same predatory instincts, Will. I have merely made an effort to cultivate mine. It has given me distinct advantages over those who might seek to harm me or my family." Hannibal's eyes shifted quickly to the door, "Clarice will enter first."

Moments later, Clarice appeared in the doorway. His reaction more from an excess of nerves than excitement Graham slapped a palm on the arm of his chair. "Son of a bitch, you were right! How the hell did you know she would be first?"

Hannibal stood from behind his desk; rising regally his posture and bearing a natural reflection of his aristocratic lineage. He remained quite still answering Graham though his eyes were locked on the small round man in the doorway. "It is quite simple…her scent led his."

Seeing a flicker of discomfort in her husband's eyes though no one else could possibly have perceived it, Clarice walked around the desk and stood in front of Hannibal intentionally blocking his view of Bloom. She spoke very low, below a whisper even, knowing only Hannibal with his keen hearing, would be able to understand her.

She reached for his hand and held it gently within her, "So…you got this, H?"

Hannibal lowered his head and spoke softly, "Yes, my Love."

Clarice grabbed the lapels of her husband's impeccable Armani suit and pulled him close, "I just told him off six ways to Sunday. He's a dick. He wants to separate us."

With a note of melancholy, Hannibal answered, "Yes. I know."

Clarice's voice, still unheard to the others in the room shed the worry and took on a playful, impish tone, "H…Do you trust me? Will you do something for me even if it seems silly? I want to shock the shit out of this pompous little prick but I need your help to pull it off."

"Yes, without question or reservation, Clarice."

"I want you to do what I do but…I want you to…well…growl. You know the sound you made this morning when we…"

Hannibal's face flushed hot with the memory of their recent lovemaking not from embarrassment or modesty, but remembering that Logan had helped him to place listening and recording devices around the room. He interrupted his wife not wishing their private encounter to become part of the public record, "Yes, Clarice, I understand."

Clarice unbuttoned her husband's suit jacket, slipped her arms within and around her husband. She kissed him passionately, opening her mouth to him and angling her body such that Bloom had a front row seat to their passion.

Realizing what Clarice was up to Will Graham turned his head and smiled not wanting Bloom to see his obvious amusement.

His want for his wife taking over Hannibal pulled Clarice close using one hand to support her back and the other hand smoothing gently over her belly. As they kissed without him realizing it, Hannibal's hand began to drift over the crest of her stomach settling just beneath the rise of her breast.

When it became obvious he was lost in the moment and unaware, Clarice steadied his hand and pulled back.

"Later H…later."

Clarice clamped her mouth on Hannibal's neck and sucked hard, raising a livid mark in the center just over his Adam's apple. She pulled back and winked at her husband as she admired her work.

Hannibal did as Clarice asked taking her throat as well, growling low and deep, the sound rumbled against her flesh as he bit down on her neck and matched the mark she left on him. When he released her, Clarice left her husband's arms and ran a finger down his chest the digit trailing down, stopping just at his belt line. She grabbed the elegant silver buckle of his belt and pulled his hips to her.

"Clarice…"

"I know everyone thinks you're a beast, H…but I want everyone to know…you're _my_ beast."

Hannibal flashed a wicked, wicked grin, "I am yours…always, Clarice."

Bloom was still standing in the doorway, his mouth hanging open. Clarice walked in front of Bloom and gestured to an empty seat intentionally placed beside Graham's.

"You may sit next to Will, Doctor Bloom. Allow me to present my husband, Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Though you two have already interacted you don't know him at all. Not who he _really _is anyway so I hope you'll keep an open mind."

"Of course," Bloom responded as he extended his hand to Hannibal. "It is a pleasure to speak with you again, Doctor. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. It will go a long way to setting minds at ease."

"Not at all Doctor Bloom, I am happy to be of service. I am obviously at the disposal of the Executive Branch. If not for the commutation of my sentence, it would have been very difficult to provide the quality of life for my wife and child that they so richly deserve. I will do all to insure their well-being. To that end, I would ask your assistance in helping me to clear up this matter."

Bloom reached for his pad and pen, "I will do whatever I can to insure your child has the best start in life possible."

"Pardon me?" Hannibal's eyes narrowed, his voice deepened as he overtly read between the lines, "_I_ will do all to insure _my_ child has the best start in life possible. As a concerned parent, I am forced to inquire precisely why my son or his beginnings in this world would be of any concern to you."

Bloom cleared his throat, dry and tightened from his own lies, "I merely meant as part of your assessment that I would be considering your child's welfare."

Hannibal verbally pursued Bloom attacking the opening left by the man's misstatement.

"It was my understanding that your only focus will be the current status of my mental health. I was told by Deputy Director Pearsall when first I agreed to this assessment, that the current administration was seeking assurances that I am not a threat to society and that the chances of recidivism are minimal. What would that have to do with my child and why would that statement represent the basis of your introduction?"

Bloom stammered his panic though the expression on his face would have been equally telling, "It…it isn't…I…I…misspoke."

His intense eyes burned into Bloom sending the confused man's blood pressure soaring. Hannibal leaned over his desk supporting himself with his hands, his fingertips spread like spiders, holding his full weight upon them.

Hannibal spoke very slowly and without blinking or drawing an additional breath voiced his displeasure, "That comment concerns me, Doctor Bloom. A word misspoken by you and taken out of context by another could have very serious ramifications for my family. I trust that the statements in your final report will be well considered and will contain no errors or misspeaks. I am entering into this arrangement trusting that all involved have my best interest in mind or will at the very least, keep an open mind. Based on your behavior thus far, I am beginning to think that assumption was a bit…shall we say…naïve?"

Doctor Bloom took a protracted breath. He was dizzy with fear, his vision narrowing as he imagined himself looking up from within a deep, dark well. In his mind's eye, Hannibal stood above, looming threateningly over him. It seemed with each misspoken word, each poorly assembled sentence, he sank deeper and deeper into this dreaded abyss. Soon the distance to the surface would become too far to bridge and he would be lost.

Fear motivating caution, Bloom measured his words carefully and spoke them slowly. He was confident in the conviction of his principles and truly believed his next statement would be well received and highly regarded. The room was still with terrifying anticipation.

"I…I will of course consider every aspect of my final report and the negative ramifications such information will have on your family." With relief that would prove far too temporary Bloom smiled the smile of a man who firmly believed that his statement was well considered, not the incendiary device it turned out to be.

Will Graham winced as Hannibal leaned forward, the statement obviously incensing the man.

Clarice held a hand up to stall her husband's course, "I got this, H."

Clarice turned to face Bloom. She snapped her fingers in quick succession directly in front of the man's face quickly garnering his full attention, "Hey! Brain trust! Why would you already know that your report might have negative ramifications for our family unless your mind was already made up? Hannibal is being extremely generous even speaking to you. He shouldn't have even considered this. Your opinion doesn't matter to us. He's already been cleared by a psychiatrist."

Bloom spoke flippantly, his arrogance very thinly veiled, "That man was no better than a check mark on a paper, a mere rubber stamp with no more therapeutic insight than a toddler. Everyone knows that particular therapist was specifically chosen because he would not reject Hannibal based on his prior diagnosis."

Clarice grew wary of the man's disrespect, "Hannibal? He's Hannibal to you now? When did you become his friend? Before or after you sexually assaulted him with a goddamned blood pressure cuff? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Hannibal interjected, "Clarice, please…"

She turned to her husband and held a finger up in warning, "Don't H…Don't…"

Clarice sat on the edge of Hannibal's desk and faced off with Bloom. The anger in her voice clearly reflected her upset and now reinforced distrust, "If the previous psychiatrist was chosen because he would not reject Hannibal, then by extension, you were chosen why…because you have plans to reject him…because you _will_ find him a danger?"

Not wanting or meaning to leak out that much of his intent, Bloom was both embarrassed and contrite as he sought to regroup, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that."

Hannibal spoke softly, "That statement leads one to project that you did not mean to imply it because you did not wish your intentions to be known to us."

Clarice stood defiantly across from Bloom. Now merely leaning on the edge of the desk her arms were folded aggressively across her chest resting them on her belly.

Clarice sneered. "Hannibal's right. What the hell _did_ you mean to imply?"

Seeing her upset and concerned about her health, Hannibal moved around the desk and stood beside Clarice putting his arm supportively around her waist. He pulled her close to him.

Hannibal became the voice of reason in the room.

"It would seem as if this process has taken an unfortunate turn. Perhaps your intentions are honorable and perhaps we are making unwarranted accusations. I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Doctor. It would be advantageous for all concerned if we were to begin again, a clean slate, such as it were."

Hannibal turned from Bloom and spoke softly to his wife, "Clarice would you like to fully participate in this session? You are of course welcome. As your devoted husband, I have no secrets from you."

Clarice turned her face and leaned her cheek against Hannibal's chest for a moment and listened to his heart beat slow and strong. His wife was much calmer when she lifted her face to her husband. He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lowered his head to hers, kissing her briefly.

When the loving couple parted, Clarice shook her head and responded frankly with just the slightest edge of aggression still present, "I honestly don't think I can handle it, H. I get way too emotional where you're concerned. I'll just get all pissed off and in the way. You should be allowed to handle this without having to worry yourself about me."

Bloom looked over at Graham and quickly raised his chin, directing Graham silently to leave the room.

Graham took the hint and cheerfully made his apologies thrilled to be leaving the tension and his own insecurities behind, "Well, if you gentlemen think you can spare me, Clarice and I will go hide out in the other room for a while. That is if you don't mind, Hannibal."

Hannibal nodded a quick acknowledgment, "I would appreciate that, Will. Thank you."

"Sure, no worries…" Graham replied, "…maybe we'll go in the kitchen and bake or something."

Hannibal laughed at the comment so much so that Clarice slapped him playfully, "Don't be such a shit, H."

Holding his sides, Hannibal explained, "Clarice, unlike most Southern women, cannot, how can I put this delicately?"

Clarice poked him playfully in a mock attempt to stop him from continuing as if he were about to release a national security secret.

Hannibal twisted and flinched at her poking and prodding, doubled over in laughter as she wrapped her arms around him. He put on his best, mock West Virginian accent and blurted out, "She can't cook worth a lick!"

Bloom was shocked not only at the endearing informality with which the pair interacted but at the joviality of Hannibal Lecter in regards to Clarice. He thought to himself that if anyone had described this scene to him, this loving exchange between contented mates, Bloom would have thought it exaggeration at best.

The overmatched forensic psychiatrist could see that the pair seemed to share affection. Though he dare not yet call it love in the context of Hannibal, Clarice was clearly a woman deeply in love. It was now painfully obvious that not only was Clarice extremely possessive and protective of her husband, Bloom was surprised, no, he was shocked to see that Hannibal was equally possessive and protective of her. Together they took the term_ power couple _to a whole new level.

Kissing his wife's hand Hannibal regrouped, "If you have no desire to participate it is time for you to take your leave, Clarice. Doctor Bloom and I have much to discuss."

Clarice turned into her husband's arms. The pair, lost for a moment in thought understood fully the importance of what would soon transpire. They briefly touched their foreheads together and closed their eyes spontaneously sharing this moment without words though their thoughts to each other were clear.

Hannibal reached for and held Clarice's face, kissed her briefly and released her. "Go now. All will be well here."

She whispered back to him, "Promise?"

"On my life."

"That's what I'm afraid of…" she whispered under her breath. "…although knowing you and this idiot, it's more likely going to be on _his_."

She reached for her husband's left wrist and felt along the cuff. Finding the Harpy, Clarice surreptitiously slipped it from its home within his sleeve keeping it from view. "I'll just hang on to this for safe keeping okay, H?"

Hannibal simply nodded.

"Come on Will, let's see what kind of trouble we can get into in Hannibal's kitchen. It'll make him crazy hearing us bang on all of those insanely expensive pots and pans."

Graham stood and moved behind his chair. "Hey, don't get me into trouble. He already tried to kill me once. I don't want to give him a reason to come back and finish the job."

Graham kidded about the near mortal attack but if truth be told, the thought of that night still terrified him. In his mind he formed a separation between this Hannibal Lecter and Hannibal the Cannibal. It was as if Graham had decided they were genetically the same, though the personalities were distinct and separate, much like identical twins. This technique was the only way Graham was able to face Hannibal.

Clarice led and Graham followed.

Bloom was alone with Hannibal. As the door to the study closed, the good doctor swore he could hear the man's heart skip a beat.

Bloom held his breath and clicked his pen open. With a tremble in his voice he stared down at his pad, "Very well…Doctor Lecter…shall we begin?"

**You know the drill, Review and tell me what you think, then PM and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH**


	88. Chapter 88

**Author's note: This is an extremely long chapter so I hope it lives up to your expectations and perhaps builds upon them. **

**Relax, read, enjoy the ride, and review. My thanks for your dedication- this story has required effort on both our parts and I am so happy to have you along as my fan fic friend! **

**LH**

**HANNIBAL VERSES BLOOM: The Interview**

"It is your session, therefore I shall defer to your expertise, Doctor," Hannibal offered.

Doctor Bloom flipped the page on his pad and steadied his pen. He clicked away at the tip as he had forgotten whether or not he opened it previously. Bloom sucked in a long, strained breath as he prepared to ask his first question.

Seeking necessary distraction, Hannibal picked up a large, well-polished Morgan silver dollar he often used in his practice. He began to roll the coin over the top of his knuckles, pass it under his palm and back over his knuckles again. He continued to repeat this process as he spoke. Bloom was transfixed.

"It is amazing how you can do that. Was it difficult to learn?"

"Not especially. It is enjoyable to watch is it not?"

"Strangely so…Doctor Lecter your wife seems to be extremely defensive of you and often takes up emotional arms for you. Does it offend that she feels the need to fight your battles for you?"

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, "I would not say that she fights my battles for me, rather I would say that she is confident enough to fight _beside_ me. And why would my wife showing her love and concern by defending me offend me? No. It does not offend me. It pleases me."

Feeling the heat of Hannibal's gaze though there was no anger or incrimination in it, Bloom refused to make eye contact, "It pleases you?"

"Immensely."

"Really? In what way?"

Tipping his head slightly to the side and as he considered Bloom, Hannibal tapped his finger on the coin he had now strategically placed on his desk.

"Can you please clarify your question? I find its ambiguity to be confusing and I do not wish to be inaccurate in my response."

Hannibal was anything but confused. As he understood from Graham, Bloom was utilizing the PCL-R checklist. He merely wished to identify the question Bloom had isolated certain he would not be foolish enough to ask them in their actual order.

Bloom looked at Hannibal's hand and watched him tap and touch the coin. Hannibal did not attend to Bloom's cursory examination of the object.

Bloom shifted his attention back to his pad and asked the question listed next, "Why specifically does it please you that your wife is so willing to come to your defense? What about that process pleases you? Is it ego related?"

Knowing there would be approximately twenty questions, and that each answer would be given a numerical assignment from zero to two, Hannibal would have to measure his responses and keep a running total in his mind.

_He probably won't ask me the questions evaluating grandiosity he'll score that on his own so we begin with two points. _

"No it is most certainly not ego related. It pleases me because it is my goal in life to care for my wife and to establish a secure and loving household. I wish to provide a stable environment as I have a child on the way. It pleases me because if my wife defends me, it reflects her desire to protect and care for me as well. It is evidence that our marriage and our relationship are as central to her existence as to my own existence."

Bloom nodded and continued to stare at his pad, "Can you envision any circumstance by which you might leave Clarice?"

_Question nineteen…he's trying to assess the likelihood that our marriage will be long term._

"Yes."

Bloom looked up in surprise, "Really? What would that circumstance be?"

"My death." Hannibal lifted the coin from the desk and again began to roll it across his knuckles causing Bloom to look up as he answered the question.

"You are saying that while you live, she will be your wife?"

Hannibal smiled and winked at Bloom. "Yes, I assure you that as long as I draw breath, Clarice will be by my side."

Bloom began writing, obviously the addition was beginning.

_If you insist on quantifying me, you will write what I direct you to write. After her behavior today it must be obvious even to you, she and I will never separate…You'll have to score that a zero._

Hannibal sat very still, his body language passive, non-threatening, careful not to appear aggressive though he wanted nothing more than to feel the heft of his Harpy in hand. He pressed his fingertips over his left cuff, missing the warm metallic contact of the folded blade against his flesh.

Bloom prodded slightly attempting to draw anger or ire, "I spoke at great length with your wife about your sex life."

_Here it comes. He will attempt to unnerve me knowing that disrespect to Clarice would be a definite trigger._

Hannibal was cautious not to give Bloom the satisfaction of his jealousy. He remained open and obliging as he responded to the question posed, though within him, Protector stalked.

"Did you? Though I don't understand what bearing that has on the topic at hand, I am certain Clarice was candid. She is bold and not one to shrink from such things. She is very expressive of our love and you will forgive us, we are often very demonstrative of our affection. Though it is not my nature to be as…public, she often feels the need and I will not deny my wife."

"She has been described by others as being cold…frigid even. Sexually repressed."

_Tread carefully my friend. My patience has…limits._

"One can see by our brief moment of passion earlier that she is anything but repressed. No, she is loving and quite expressive."

Bloom nodded and continued, his tone becoming somewhat more salacious as he attempted to bait Hannibal into an emotional response.

"I would think you might be upset that I questioned her about your physical relationship. Does it disturb you that we broached that topic in _great _detail?"

This temptation to anger was not lost on Hannibal therefore he was careful to appear passive and maintained an even tone, "Were you professional in your query, Doctor? Did you show her due respect?"

Hannibal spun the coin on its edge catching Bloom's attention momentarily.

When the spin of the coin slowed and it finally settled on its side, Bloom probed further. His tone designed to stoke Hannibal's anger, "You have my word I gave her the respect she was _due_."

_The respect she was __**due**__? Really…do you think I'm that easy to bait, Allen?_

Seeing through the pathetic attempt to anger him, Hannibal ignored the offense, "I will take you at your word, and no, it does not disturb me."

The pen clicking quickly within his nervous grasp Bloom took another tack, "There are many internet sites dedicated to your prior sex life. Is your wife aware of them and is she also aware that you have in the past been fairly promiscuous?"

"I wouldn't say I have been promiscuous, no. I was a single man for many, many years and I have an active libido. Possibly I was more adventurous than most and though I have had many sexual partners never simultaneously. She has seen the sites and read the accounts at length and while I'm certain it was not pleasant for her, she has come to terms with it and is not threatened by it."

"And now that you're married you will not entertain lovers…even if your sexual needs exceed your wife's desire?"

"I am uncertain how you came to believe that Clarice and I have different sexual needs. I have found us to be more than compatible in that area. I am certain she told you no differently Now that I am married I have been exclusively Clarice's sexual partner. She is confident in my love and is not threatened by my past."

Hannibal rubbed the coin between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. He then tapped the edge of the coin on his desk again garnering the brief curiosity of Bloom.

Bloom shifted his focus back to his pad. "You will not grow bored with one partner?"

Hannibal smiled wryly, "No…we are extremely active and very, very creative."

"She meets all of your physical needs?"

"Yes without question and may I add that I make certain to meet her physical needs as well."

_Again, a number on the paper…Promiscuity, question twelve…zero. You will not win this, Bloom._

Bloom flipped through his notes, watching Hannibal from his periphery.

"I must compliment you, Doctor Bloom you are much better at your technique than Chilton was," Hannibal stated off hand as he spun the coin again on its side.

"Better at what technique?" Bloom was curious.

"Mr. Chilton often bragged that under your tutelage, he had the mastered the ability to watch patients from his periphery. I must admit that while not perfect, you are far more adept. He was quite clumsy, though I am certain he was unaware at how obvious he was. It was actually quite amusing."

Bloom tapped his pen nervously to his teeth as he dared himself to ask that which he was most curious and also most afraid. He spat the question out before he could change his mind, "Did you enjoy killing him?"

Hannibal spoke through an affable smile, "I was never charged with killing Mr. Chilton. Why would you presume to ask that question?"

Bloom's arrogance fueled his boldness, "I am merely curious as to whether or not you actually feel any remorse for killing or for consuming human flesh."

Bored with Bloom's obvious and uninspired queries, leaning back comfortably in his large leather chair Hannibal explored the Great Hall dedicated to his family within his mind. There amongst the soaring statues, Hannibal stood in front of a large painting of his distant relative the warlord Hannibal the Grim. Sitting tall and regal in a saddle he is depicted in bloodied battle regalia after his fifteenth century victory at the Battle of Grunwald. The historic bearing of his forefathers lending an air of dignity and brutality to him, Hannibal stated with a chill of truth, "I do not feel remorse for my actions."

Bloom countered weakly, "People died."

Hannibal blinked and shifted his eyes to Bloom's. His tone remained impassive, "People die every day…what is your point?"

"Most normal people would have some degree of remorse after taking a life."

"Are you pre-determining at this early stage in our conversation that I am not normal?"

"That isn't what I meant to say," Bloom offered penitently.

"Not aloud anyway," Hannibal parried. "To further your comment about what most _normal _people would or would not do, I imagine that would depend on the reason for taking the life. If I had ever taken the life of someone truly innocent or good, I would most definitely have significant remorse. I have never taken a life of another person who did not in some way offend or seek to injure."

Bloom scribbled a number.

_Well, I don't think I'll fare well in the remorse category. It makes no matter as long as the total does not approach or exceed thirty. He'll score that a two._

Hannibal, hands folded comfortably leaned forward just slightly, "May I ask _you_ a question, Doctor?"

"Certainly."

"You asked me about Mr. Chilton as if I had some guilty knowledge as to his disappearance or demise. It begs the question, does the fact that Mr. Chilton disappeared weigh on your mind? Do you think of him often? Do you feel any remorse in regards to his…disposition?"

"Why would I feel remorse? I had nothing to do with his death."

"How do you know he is dead?" Hannibal asked as he flipped the coin in the air.

"I believe he is dead. He was far too driven to succeed and at the time of his disappearance he was very focused on your case and was seeking to collaborate with me on a book. He would not have simply disappeared. No I am sure he is dead and even more certain that you killed him."

Hannibal's eyes glazed slightly as he spoke quietly almost as an afterthought, "Cineri gloria sera venit."

Bloom looked up briefly as he readied his pen. "I'm not familiar with that phrase."

Hannibal's eyes glowed as they locked with Bloom's. He answered in a low tone, **"**Fame comes too _late_ to the _dead_." Quickly, like a glint of light travelling off the edge of a blade, the fearful spark faded from Hannibal's eyes.

Bloom felt a cold chill twisting within his vertebrae, spinning like a corkscrew up his spine. He shook off his fear twisting his shoulders quickly as a dog shakes off water. Bravery, again installed he continued, "Your gallows humor aside. I still believe you murdered him."

"Hmm, that is an interesting presumption. Let us proceed on that basis, hypothetically of course shall we?"

"If you wish."

As a subconscious defense mechanism Bloom had been hunching quite low in his chair as if attempting to meld with the seat. As Hannibal spoke of Chilton, Bloom's interest piqued. He sat upright and listened intently.

Bloom quivered with anticipation and congratulated himself, fully believing he had tricked Hannibal into revealing what had happened to his colleague.

Smoothing his hair back from his forehead with the heel of his hand, Hannibal began the hypothetical questioning, "You have proposed that I killed dear Frederick? Why do you suppose I would do that?"

"I believe you were seeking vengeance."

"Vengeance is it?"

"Yes."

"Vengeance for what?"

"For the way you were treated."

Hannibal tapped the coin on the desk. "That statement is far too broad to be relevant to this discussion. If you believe I would seek vengeance for the way I was treated you are speaking specifically to what aspect of my treatment?"

"I am speaking to some of the unconventional testing you underwent. Perhaps specifically to the testing designed to assess the sexual components of your crimes."

Hannibal pressed his hands together as if in prayer and tapped the fingers to his lips as if lost in thought. His response was measured, "Ah, yes, you speak of your decision to utilize the infamous blood pressure cuff. If that were the case and I sought revenge for that indignity why would I kill Chilton and leave you alive? You were equal to him in culpability yet here you are among the living."

Being that Hannibal and Clarice had shown obvious disapproval and scorn for the process, Bloom was now becoming very self-conscious as to the actual investigatory merits of that decision. He was also disturbed by the reference to his culpability and the indirect threat of unclaimed vengeance. His next statement mirrored his discomfort, "You do understand why we did that…don't you? You would have done the same thing."

Hannibal placed his palms flat on the desk as if pressing down a lid to contain his disgust, "No, I most certainly do not understand it and I assure you I would _not_ have done the same thing. There are no circumstances by which I would attach anything to anyone's genitals as there is no clinical merit to it. Neither would I show any interest at all in those particular organs. Not to mention, being that I am male and fairly well endowed any sexual arousal could have been determined by direct visual assessment. There was no need for you to have had that direct contact with my person nor was it necessary to subject me to that level of urogenital scrutiny. It was uncomfortable, not to mention undignified more for you than myself as there was no investigative necessity for that procedure."

Hannibal snatched the coin from the table and squeezed it in his right hand, now closed tightly in a fist.

Bloom sought to convince, "The possible information we might have gathered exceeded any discomfort connected with the procedure."

"On your part…not mine. I'm curious. ..What conclusions did you draw from the information?"

"That your crimes did not have a sexual component to them."

"One would think the absence of bodily fluids, pubic hairs or lack of evidence supporting any sexual misconduct would have achieved the same end. Also being that I am heterosexual, and my victims were all male, a sexual component to the crime was unlikely. Or perhaps you could have simply asked me."

Bloom shifted in his seat as his professional decisions were laid to waste, "You might have lied."

Hannibal tapped the edge of the coin on the desk in order to stress his point. "I _never_ lie…_Ever_."

Bloom again scrawled a number.

_Question number four on the checklist, lying. That had better be listed a zero Alan._

"Can I ask you a few questions about your childhood, Doctor Lecter?"

"You may ask anything you wish. Whether or not I answer will remain to be seen."

"What would preclude you from answering?"

"I will answer only questions that have bearing on this assessment."

"Fair enough. Were you a difficult child, Doctor Lecter?"

"Difficult? What do you mean…in what way?"

"Your behavior…would you say you were hyper active or in any way in need of external controls. Were you perhaps mischievous or did your maybe play pranks on people? In fact did you, on occasion, misbehave at all?"

"Not even remotely. I was raised in a very aristocratic family. Manners and comportment were stressed at a very young age. I was a respectful and very well-mannered child."

After a flurry of gesticulations Hannibal rested his hands loosely on his desk. The coin was not in view. Bloom found himself wondering where the coin was.

"No problems in school?"

"I came of school age during the war years, Doctor Bloom. I received my early education by means of a private tutor hired by my parents. He was an older Jewish man with an exceptional mind. Rest assured under his direction I became an exceptional student. Even at that early age, I much appreciated his intellect and treated him with the same level of respect and dignity with which I too had been treated."

_Sorry to disappoint you Bloom…No early behavior problems…score that a zero .You may as well mark a zero for juvenile delinquency as well and kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. _

Bloom was curious about the teacher, "What happened to him?"

As he answered, Hannibal slowly began to lengthen his responses to match the rhythm of his speech patterns to Bloom's breathing pattern.

"Very much the same thing that happened to all Jewish men during that time, exceptional mind or not, he was killed. They removed his trousers, checked the status of his foreskin and upon seeing his circumcised member, slaughtered him where he stood. So my brilliant tutor with the exceptional mind died in the mud with his pants left around his ankles because of the state of his penis. Therefore you will forgive me if I am hyper-sensitive to the blood pressure cuff and you will understand why I would never have done the same."

Embarrassed by this statement Bloom quickly moved on, "You never pleaded guilt or innocence at your trial. Have you ever taken some manner of responsibility for your crimes, Doctor Lecter?"

"Yes."

As the light rode low in the sky the room grew darker. Instead of walking across the room to flip the main switch, Hannibal turned on the antique desk lamp no longer centered on his desk. He continued to roll the coin over his knuckles.

Bloom stared forward. He was mesmerized by the movement of the coin and became focused on Hannibal's voice. He spoke quietly, "In what way?"

"I have sought to fulfill my personal responsibility by aiding law enforcement in the identification and capture of several serial killers. Many of whom had you quite confounded if I am not mistaken, Doctor Bloom. In that way I am taking responsibility for lives taken."

"Yes, well I don't share their pathology. I believe that gave you distinct advantages over most forensic psychologists."

"Really? It couldn't be that I am insightful? It must be that I am in some way deficient and that deficiency, one that you yourself do not possess, is the reason I was able to solve the crimes and you were not? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yes, that is what I am saying."

"Interesting."

"Why would you assist in capturing the other killers? Were you attempting to prove yourself to be superior to them?"

"No, I have no need to measure my self-worth or judge my own intellectual abilities against others. Self-aggrandizement does not interest me. Neither do appeals to my intellectual vanity. I have no such need for conventional reinforcement."

"You're saying that you didn't do it for the attention you would garner? I find that hard to believe."

"No, external attention does not interest me. You are stating by implication that you wished to solve my crimes and others like mine for the personal attention you would receive for such? This assessment was ordered by the Office of the President. Your final analysis will be discussed at a detailed Executive briefing therefore you will no doubt become well-known to the White House."

"Yes. No doubt the decisions I make will be discussed at great length in many important circles. I expect this to be a study of significance in the field of psychiatry."

"That obviously pleases you."

"There is nothing wrong with wishing recognition for one's accomplishments. Yes. I am quite interested in recognition. I am not ashamed to admit that."

"I didn't say that you should be ashamed. I am simply stating that it was not a motivating factor for me."

"Then why did you do it?"

"You may find this difficult to believe of me however, I am a firm believer in personal responsibility. I took lives that I believed deserved to be taken. The killers I stopped murdered women and children. I sought to give _valued_ lives back."

"So your main motivation was what?" Bloom questioned.

Bonum commune hominis, Doctor Bloom. I did it for the common good of man. I wished to stop the deaths of innocents."

"Did you feel sorry for the victims?"

"I felt empathy for the victims, most especially the children. It is personally abhorrent to me when women, children or the elderly are in any way injured or are made to suffer. Clarice and I visit my elderly neighbors regularly, cook for them and tend to their medical needs in emergency situations. Yes, I absolutely feel very deep empathy for those I consider vulnerable."

_That gives me high marks for empathy Bloom…check off number eight. Place a zero in the column. _

Bloom began to flip back and forth through his note pad, appearing confused as he attempted to discern which questions on the checklist he had failed to cover. Upon seeing he had not touched upon the need for stimulation, he began.

"Was it difficult for you during your incarceration Doctor Lecter?"

"My apologies could you be more specific, difficult in what way?"

"The need for external stimulation? Your reading and art materials were often restricted."

"Yes, they were removed often and at your suggestion I was told though I believe the toilet seat was Mr. Chilton's idea. No, that aspect of my incarceration did not trouble me. I have no need for external stimulation. I have internal resources and could spend virtual years enjoying those resources."

"What do you mean internal resources?"

"I have an exceptionally detailed memory. I can revisit museums, novels read, walk familiar streets, all without leaving the comfort of my home or the discomfort of that cell. Sensory deprivation was not a concern of mine though I am well-aware you designed my restraints with that in mind."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hannibal turned the coin within his hand.

"The restraints employed at your suggestion were overkill. Hand cuffs and a ketch pole would have served the same purpose. Multiple levels of restraint were designed to prove that you and Chilton had total control and absolute dominance over me."

"What do you mean multiple levels of restraint? You are a danger to society. The restraints are…"

"_Was_ a danger to society…the restraints _were_…that is what you meant, yes Doctor?"

Distracted momentarily Bloom regrouped, "Yes…that's what I meant. What did you mean by multiple levels being unnecessary?"

"I was cuffed, shackled and strapped at several points to a hand truck."

"Yes."

"Why the straight jacket if I was already immobile? Why the bite mask if I could not move my head?"

"Precautions, that's all."

"No, the straight jacket was not necessary to restrain me. The straight jacket is the symbol of insanity. The straight jacket was a reminder to me that I was now considered to be intellectually deficient and emotionally unstable. It was a reminder that I was no longer human. I became _Other_. You designated me monster not man."

"The bite mask was used because of what you did to that nurse."

"What _you_ did to that nurse by placing her in that situation. No, you placed that mask not as protection for those around me, you placed it over my face to muzzle me and to frighten people. You and Chilton sought to debase me in order to elevate your own status. The straight jacket was a symbol of dominance and insanity, the mask was sheer punishment."

"No I designed that mask myself strictly as an extra layer of protection. It was a tool plain and simple."

"If the mask had not been designed as punishment, if the mask had been designed as a tool to protect, it would have been treated like any other tool. It would have been cleaned."

Bloom shifted his eyes to the floor. He had no response.

"Your lack of reply reinforces my theory. You tested my senses. You were aware that my heightened sense of smell was the most developed of my senses. You understood how offensive, not to mention how unsanitary that mask would become, yet you personally directed the mask not be cleaned."

"Methods of control are often…uncomfortable. Incarceration is not designed to be pleasant."

"No, I do not imagine it is." Hannibal continued to pass the coin over and under his hand. Seeing that Bloom was watching the coin, Hannibal directed his attention to it as well, "I find it quite relaxing don't you?" Hannibal continued to float the coin.

"Yes…it is relaxing. I can't put my finger on why."

"The rhythm of it and the color of the coin, I believe. Watch it for a moment and tell me if it has the same effect on you. I find it clears my mind of worries…of stress. It relaxes me tremendously."

"I feel…relaxed. I do."

"It has that effect on me as well. You must allow me a moment of gratitude. Though my incarceration was, as you put it not designed to be pleasant, I wish to thank you."

Bloom's eyes stayed with the coin, "You wish to thank me for what?"

As Hannibal spoke, he was again very aware to match the rhythm of his speech to the inhalations and exhalations of Bloom's breathing patterns.

"For bringing my Clarice to me though you had no way of knowing that she would be the exceptional woman that she is. You saw her body and her looks and believed she would interest me. She did interest me though not for the reasons you assumed. Her mind is exceptional and she has the heart of a lioness. She is a warrior yet she feels so deeply that she was able to see in me that which no one else could or would. She saw past the mask you placed on me, saw the man and dared to love me. She was and is magnificent and I am humbled by her love."

Bloom scribbled copious notes.

_You can score shallow affect a zero, maybe a one._

"I am happy for you both," Bloom stated with the emotional warmth of a man describing a tooth ache. He continued, equally unenthusiastic, "What do you think the future holds for you?"

"I have a wonderful future planned with Clarice and my son. We will travel as a family and I will experience my life anew through their eyes. I will see the world as if seeing it for the first time. Yes, our future together is indeed bright. I thank you for that."

Bloom placed a circle signaling zero on a line in his notebook.

_That's right put a zero next to number fourteen, lack of realistic long term goals. This is far too easy my limited friend. _

_Hannibal again continued to roll the coin across his knuckles. Bloom's eyes followed intensely._

"So…the drive to kill is gone? You no longer feel that impulse?''

"I never killed on impulse. One might accuse me of…whimsy as I often added details to my kills as…artistic license so to speak, but I never took a life without planning for each and every contingency. I am not now nor have I ever been an impulsive man."

_Put another zero in your book Alan…_

As if on cue, next to question number fifteen, Doctor Alan Bloom added a zero.

Bloom pointed his pen to Hannibal's hand, still busily rolling the coin, though Hannibal made the technique seem almost boring, "That is positively mesmerizing. I'm impressed by your level of dexterity. It's incredible how relaxing it is to watch."

Hannibal proceeded with the process, "If I continue to stare at it, I find my eyelids feel heavy. As if I am about to fall asleep, but that is probably because I am controlling the coin."

"No, I feel the same way and I am not controlling a thing. I am simply watching you."

"Really? Are your limbs equally relaxed? I have discovered if I do this at length, my arms and legs grow so heavy that I feel I'm about to fall asleep. Are you experiencing a similar phenomenom?"

"Yes, absolutely…If I were resting on a couch or bed I would be sleeping by now."

"Here all along I thought it was only I who had experienced that. You were asking a question?"

"How will you support your family Doctor Lecter? Do you have a stable income or will you be forced to turn to Clarice for future assistance?"

_Ahh, the section on parasitic life style…you really should have been more creative in your questioning._

I have actually just filed my taxes if you would like to review them. I have no need to turn to anyone to support my family I am independent and have no need of further financial assistance."

"By independent you suggest that your savings and assets are such that you have no need of employment?"

"It is not a suggestion. On both my paternal and maternal side I am of noble birth and as the only surviving member, though much of the personal possessions and some of the property have been lost to me, I have inherited two very vast fortunes. Though it took many long years to recoup those assets I now have control over the financial legacy left me by my ancestors. My inheritance secure I have created several trusts for my wife and child. With that solidly in place, I have more money than I can spend in my lifetime. If I pass from this life, my wife, my son and any additional children born to us will never want for a thing."

"Will you answer a question for me about crimes committed overseas? They have no bearing on your pardon."

"If I deem it appropriate…yes."

"In Florence you killed a Sardinian and a policeman?"

"I killed the Sardinian sent to kidnap me and Commendatore Rinaldo Pazzi because he attempted to sell me to Mason Verger."

"Had Pazzi not attempted to sell you to Mason Verger would you have stayed in Italy?"

"Yes, I was quite at home in Florence though I may still have contacted Clarice. I missed her tremendously."

"You had nothing to do with the Il Mostro case?"

"I was not involved in the killings attributed to Il Mostro. As I have stated I do not possess a blood lust, I do not have a drive to kill. My behavior was a choice… a choice I will never make again."

"Because of your wife?"

"Yes, because of the promises made her. I will never break those promises. It took far too long to earn her love, her trust and I would die before I would betray her faith in me."

Hannibal conveniently left out the part of the promise where Clarice conceded he could kill to defend their family. Hannibal secretly hoped it _would_ be necessary. Perhaps he could guide the process. He had not yet decided if that would be necessary. He knew it would be enjoyable…but necessary? That remained to be seen.

"I believe our interview has concluded Doctor Lecter. Are there any questions you have for me?"

"You are certain we are finished?"

"Yes. We are most definitely finished."

Hannibal reached under his desk and flipped the toggle switch placed to control the listening and recording devices and switched them off. When he was certain there would no longer be an audio account of the interaction, Hannibal put the remainder of his plan into action.

Hannibal spent much of the session using his voice and the coin to create a state of suggestibility. He employed a technique of covert hypnosis he had used extensively in his psychiatric practice.

_You are almost there are you not my friend…_

Lecter the Protector leaned across his desk, and rolling the bright coin across his knuckles spoke in a low, menacing tone the sound of which, had he not been so relaxed, might have chilled Bloom to his core.

"I have no questions for you, Doctor Bloom…though I do have a few…_Suggestions_."

**Hope the chapter lived up to your expectations! As always, review and tell me what you think then PM and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	89. Chapter 89

**NUANCES**

Hannibal and Clarice sat together in front of the fireplace in the family room. It had been a long while since either of them spoke, the weight of the afternoon still heavy in the air.

Hannibal reached for Clarice's hand and bringing it to his face, kissed it gently.

"I would say that the afternoon was successful," he spoke confidently.

Clarice was relieved that Hannibal had finally broken the silence, "I was wondering what you thought of it. Do you think he'll clear you?"

"If he is honest in his scoring he will clear me as I was careful to stay well within the normal range. It is highly doubtful that he will be accurate. Not that it matters." Hannibal let his head drop back to the back of the couch and squeezed his wife's hand. He closed his eyes and searched his memory. A smile crossed his face as Hannibal imagined an afternoon spent making love to his wife. Fully contented he remembered the feeling of falling asleep with his cheek resting against the warm curve of Clarice's hip.

Clarice looked at him intensely. When it was obvious he was not going to open his eyes, she poked him in the chest. Slowly, he left the image in his mind and opened his eyes. By the expression on her face Hannibal could see her confusion.

Though she wasn't angry she sounded as such, her concern coloring her emotions, "What are you talking about, H. Of _course_ it matters…why _wouldn't_ it matter?"

Hannibal ignored her concern and rubbed his hands over his wife's belly, "I took precautions. A bit of insurance so to speak, therefore you needn't worry. I have the situation under control."

Clarice settled against Hannibal and smoothed her hands over his, still resting on her belly.

"Just because Logan puts a few bugs around the room doesn't mean we are in the clear, H."

Hannibal busied himself with the child within her, massaging her swollen abdomen and speaking quietly though more to tease Clarice than anything else, "Your mother is worried again my Little One. You would think she might have grown to trust me by now. Let us hope that after your birth she is less…emotional."

Clarice pushed Hannibal's hands away, "You'd better rethink playing that hormonal pregnant wife card…" she threatened playfully, "...don't forget…I still have your Harpy."

Laughing, Hannibal held up a conciliatory hand, "Fair enough, Clarice though I wasn't speaking about Logan or the listening devices implanted. I was speaking of my conversation with Doctor Bloom. Whatever he is given to do rest assured I will have a response."

Clarice put her arms around Hannibal, the worry ebbing from her voice, "There are times when your confidence is comforting and times when it's downright irritating."

He placed his hands on her belly once more his voice amused by her irritation, "Your tone lends itself to the latter, I think."

Her tone grew sarcastic, "You think? I mean this is serious stuff…you act likes it's a game."

Hannibal was confident in his plan and again busied himself with her belly, kissing it and smoothing his hands over it, "Rest assured I understand the serious nature of the situation. You must trust that I have put into place several safety measures not the least of which are the listening devices. I have told you that I will do all to protect our family. I will most certainly not allow this man to stand between me and that which we have worked so hard to attain."

Clarice inhaled and very slowly exhaled, her confidence in her husband now installed she spoke softly as she ran her fingers through his hair, "That's all I wanted to hear, H…I just needed to know that you were taking this seriously. I know you have…issues with Bloom. I don't blame you for that. I just want to be sure you're not gonna let those issues cloud our situation."

Hannibal again kissed her belly and spoke confidently, "My situation with Bloom is no concern of yours, Clarice. I am focused on his threat to our family that is all though if _indirectly_ I am able to glean a bit of revenge, would you begrudge me that."

"H as long as that son of a bitch backs off and you are clear of any blame, I don't care if you pick your teeth with his ribs, figuratively that is…not literally."

Hannibal laughed out loud at the comment, "My, Clarice… you don't think I'd be foolish enough to dispatch Doctor Bloom when our situation is so publicly known? No my plan is much more, Machiavellian." He pulled her close and palmed her belly with both hands. The baby shifted toward his touch.

"Did you feel that H? The baby just moved."

"Yes, I felt him. He is growing rather large. You may begin to feel a bit uncomfortable."

"I'm fine, H…really. You don't have to worry."

"I do not _have_ to worry, yet I do. You are my life Clarice. I will worry about you and this child until I take my last breath." Hannibal raised Clarice's chin and kissed her tenderly. "Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Would you like me to make reservations? It has been quite some time since last we indulged."

"Would you mind if we played it a little low key? I'd really just love to spend a quiet night here with you." Clarice continued to play with his hair, swiping it back from his forehead the way he wore it in the asylum.

Hannibal rested his head on her belly and offered, "I can prepare a meal. Anything you would like, you merely have to ask and I will be more than happy to oblige."

There was a twinkle in Clarice's eyes, "Anything…would you make me anything?"

He kissed her belly again, "Yes, Clarice…anything at all."

She leaned over him and whispered in his ear, "I'd kill for spaghetti and meatballs."

There was surprise in Hannibal's voice, "Spaghetti and meatballs…just that?"

Clarice was unapologetic, "Yeah, no carbonara or fra diavolo, no freaking alfredo, bolognese or pesto crap… just spaghetti with a classic tomato sauce and a couple of meatballs. You're half Italian. You should be able to handle that."

"I can absolutely handle that, Clarice. What would you like for dessert?"

"I get to choose that too?" Clarice's eyes lit up as she made her decision.

Hannibal was pleased at the anticipation in his wife's voice, "Yes, you get to choose that too. What would you have me make?"

Clarice seemed modest about her choice, a little embarrassed even, "If you're serious about that it isn't something you can make…you just get it. You'll think it's stupid…it's kind of a childhood thing."

"Please, Clarice…I won't pass judgment on your choice. What would you have me get?"

"SNO-BALLS," she expressed excitedly.

Hannibal was confused, not realizing what Clarice was referring to, "Why would anyone sell snowballs?"

"Not real snowballs silly. They're kind of like a rounded chocolate cupcake with creme in the middle but they're covered in pink marshmallow and coconut."

Hannibal winced at the description, "And where would I procure this delicacy?"

"At the grocery store…they come in little cellophane packages," Clarice explained.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, "One cannot purchase them at a private bakery?"

Clarice was becoming irritated, "No…one cannot. Look if it's beneath you… _nevermind_."

Hannibal's tone was apologetic, "Nonsense, I will be more than happy to purchase your dessert, Clarice."

The baby shifted again and Clarice's hips rose slightly in discomfort. She breathed deeply as she spoke,  
>"He's a lot like you, H…restless," Clarice commented as she rested her hands again on her husband's hands still holding her belly.<p>

"You are petite and the child is growing quite large. I am concerned that either the child will be early or you will face a caesarian section. The baby will gain the majority of his weight the last few weeks of the pregnancy."

"We'll be fine, H…we'll be fine."

Hannibal leaned over, hugged his wife low on her body and rested his head on her blossoming abdomen listening to the sounds of Clarice and his child. He liked the sound of that.

_We'll be fine, H…we'll be fine. _

**PEARSALL AND BLOOM**

Bloom entered Pearsall's office and quickly took a seat. Pearsall closed the door and moved across the room taking his seat behind his desk.

"So Doctor Bloom, how did he do? Is the crazy son of a bitch still crazy or can we tell the White House he won't be eating up the electorate?"

"That depends on what you mean when you ask whether or not he passed the test," Bloom commented with a good deal of arrogance.

Pearsall raised an eyebrow, "What the hell is that double talk? Either he answered your questions correctly or not. Either he scored within the normal range or he didn't so stop screwing around and answer the question. Did he pass the test?"

Bloom conceded, "He answered the questions correctly."

Pearsall was filling out a report on his desk. He spoke without lifting his eyes from the paperwork, "So in your report you'll state that he's not a danger to society."

Bloom cleared his throat and deepened his voice hoping his somber tone would add weight to his conviction, "That is not what I'm saying in my report, no. You must remember, my name will be attached to this study."

Pearsall rubbed an irritated hand across the back of his neck, "Cut the bullshit Alan this isn't a goddamned psychological study it's just a simple evaluation. You gave the man the test. He answered the questions and fell within the normal range. If you aren't intending to clear him, what the hell are you going to say in that report?"

"I am going to say that I believe Hannibal Lecter to be every bit the man he was. I believe him to be an extreme danger to society and I believe that either he should be removed from his family or his baby should be removed from the home. He is not a man who should be influencing a child."

Pearsall's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. "Wait a minute Bloom, no one asked you to evaluate his status as a father. Your only purpose was to give that test and submit a report of the results so I don't want you getting creative in your goddamned evaluation. I want a strict reporting of the results. As a matter of fact I want every question you asked and I want Lecter's response verbatim."

"I didn't record the sessions so I'll have to go by my notes."

"Why the hell didn't you?"

"I didn't think he would allow it."

"So, I have to take your word on what he said? You expect me to stand behind a report where it's your word against his? It's the goddamned office of the President for fuck's sake!"

"I understand precisely who will be reviewing my report and you can be certain it will be meticulous and beyond reproach."

"It had better be…remember this is Hannibal Fucking Lecter we're talking about not some mentally deficient killer out there sniffing panties and wearing his mother's heels."

There was a knock at the door.

Pearsall called out, "Come on in, Will." He turned to Bloom, "I hope you don't mind I asked Will Graham to join us.

Bloom nodded, "No…I'm sure he will agree with me."

Graham entered and sat in the chair beside, Bloom.

"So, what's up? This soiree' couldn't wait a day or two. I mean, we just left the guy's house a couple of hours ago."

Pearsall was obviously fairly disturbed by Bloom's assessment. His voice was edged with bitterness and a fair amount of cynicism, "Bloom here thinks our resident psychopath is still a psychopath. Furthermore this genius thinks it would be a good idea to separate Lecter from his family. I think that would be suicide but that's just me. What's your opinion, Graham?"

Graham looked over at Bloom with a surprised look on his face, "What? When we left their house you told me he scored in the normal range."

"That's not the point," Bloom defended. "He's an expert on testing. He understands how to answer so that he might appear…normal."

"You chose the goddamned test! You don't toss the results because they don't fit your preconceived judgments. Hell, you shouldn't have a preconceived judgment!" The disturbance in Graham's voice was apparent, "He appears pretty goddamned normal to me Alan. He and Clarice are happy. They have a very stable relationship and he seems to be an extremely faithful and devoted husband. For Christ sake you saw it! She gave him a freaking hickey right in front of you."

Pearsall was shocked, "What? A hickey? Clarice?"

Graham nodded, "He gave her one too. He was teasing her about not be able to cook, then she starts to slap him, just screwing around, and you saw it Alan…"

"Saw what?" Pearsall was beyond curious at this point and leaned on his forearm to listen more intently.

Bloom responded, "Saw what? A man laughing? I fail to see the psychological impact of that!"

"Laughing? You and I both saw it. Their interaction is nothing short of love. Clarice was playing with him, tickling and smacking the shit out of him and Hannibal Lecter was doubled over laughing his ass off. He loves her. He's happy. No, if he's psychotic I'm a purple dinosaur and don't be a wise ass and call me Barney."

Pearsall was losing his patience, "Is that what happened?"

Bloom mumbled under his breath, "That's what happened when Graham was there. He left me alone with him."

Graham immediately took umbrage to the statement, "You directed me to leave so I left. Don't use that as an excuse to fail that man. He let us into his home and he trusted us even though it was pretty clear you already had your mind made up. He told you as much and still he answered your questions."

Seeing the schism between the two men, Pearsall needed to find out who was telling the truth. He probed further, "Were there any questions he refused to answer?"

Bloom was direct and unyielding, "No, he answered them all."

Graham joined in the questioning, "Did he get angry or lose control at any point…did he threaten you in any way?"

Bloom stood his verbal ground, "No, but even while he was committing his crimes he functioned perfectly on a day to day basis. He was never threatening in any way. That's why he's so dangerous, because he is both charming and cunning."

Graham shook his head vehemently, his voice expressive, "If your report includes any mention of psychotic or anti-social behavior I want to go on record as saying I whole-heartedly disagree with that assessment. Let's not forget they never came up with an actual treatment plan or named him as having any specific disorder. They locked him up and tossed the key. Chilton proposed Ganser Syndrome but that was never listed on Lecter's medical records. I don't think there ever was an official diagnosis. Not one that everyone agreed on anyway."

_They don't have a name for what he is… _

Pearsall threw his hands up in disgust.

"I'll tell you what Bloom, if you insist on traveling down this path you're gonna go it alone. How do we convince anyone that he's still a threat to society when Lecter _voluntarily_ came out of hiding to help with the Bashandi case and he was nothing but cooperative. He almost died saving that girl for Christ's sake. You go to war on this one and you'll be picking one hell of a battle. There's been a lot of good press where Lecter's involved. People are pretty convinced he's changed, even if you're not."

Bloom was not easily dissuaded. He leaned forward in his chair as if the closer proximity to Pearsall would convince him. "Are we forgetting he killed that Dolente woman and possibly her accomplice?"

Graham shifted the angle of his body as if attempting to bridge the two men, passionate in his defense, "Are you forgetting they tortured him for days and he held out as long as he could before he attacked them? He's not a young man and his body had just healed from that freak show Miggs. Another couple of hours strapped to that table and his heart would have succumbed."

"That's not definite," Bloom complained as he rolled his eyes.

"Okay we aren't getting anywhere arguing like this. You write your report, Bloom. You put in only the facts. I don't want you to pass any judgment one way or the other. Just report what his answers to the questions were and score the test."

"But there are nuances…" Bloom urged, unwilling to fully concede.

"Oh fuck you and your nuances, Bloom. You're just trying to get back at Lecter for Chilton," Graham insisted, "You're not kidding anyone."

Pearsall waved his hands signaling both men to calm down. "Alright people let's get it together. Bloom you can add all the nuances you want but you mention Clarice or that baby in less than a favorable light were Lecter is concerned and I'm tossing your report in the trash and I'll go with Graham on this. The two of you just get the hell out of here before I really lose my patience."

Bloom and Graham left Quantico with their positions still fully entrenched. Will Graham sat in his car and took out his cell phone. He punched several numbers into the phone.

Clarice picked up the line and answered quietly. Hannibal had fallen asleep with his head resting on her belly, and she didn't want to wake him.

"Hello, Will? Is something wrong?"

"Everything's wrong, Clarice…can I talk to Hannibal?"

**Thanks for reading! Review and let me know what you think, then pm and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH **


	90. Chapter 90

**Welcome back my friends! Another split chapter- this will include Valentine's Day part one- Next chapter will contain part two. Relax, Read, and Review! **

**THE PHONE CALL**

Clarice whispered, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to buffer the sound, "He's sleeping, Will. Is it something I can pass along to him or is it an emergency?"

There was a pause as Graham considered the question. "It's not an emergency. I just wanted him to know what happened tonight. I got called to Quantico for a meeting with Pearsall and Bloom."

Clarice spoke very softly, unaware that although Hannibal's eyes were closed and he was careful not to alter his breathing patterns, he was indeed not only awake but listening.

"Christ they couldn't even wait a day?" she asked, incredulous at the speed with which Pearsall, normally a hopeless procrastinator, was working.

Remembering that Hannibal had offered for Clarice to sit in on his meeting with Bloom, Graham decided that Hannibal wouldn't mind him giving the information to Clarice.

"That's what_ I_ said. I just wanted Hannibal to know that Bloom scored the test and Hannibal passed but Bloom doesn't care. Regardless of the outcome, he's going to suggest that Hannibal is still a threat. He's still talking about getting your husband away from you and your baby."

There was silence at the other end of the line causing Graham to momentarily believe that his cell phone had dropped the call. "Clarice…Are you still there? Did you hear what I said? Bloom wants to separate Hannibal from your family."

_Okay, this isn't new information it's just… disappointing the test didn't change things. Hannibal will know what to do. Don't lose your shit on the phone with Will Graham. Get the information Hannibal needs and get off the phone without crying your eyes out._

Clarice breathed deeply and removed the panic from her voice before responding, "I heard you Will. Pearsall called the meeting so obviously he wants to move quickly. Hannibal's going to want to know what was Pearsall's take on this is?"

Though in his car and obviously alone the sensitivity of the subject caused Graham to look over his shoulder as if someone were eavesdropping on the conversation. Reprimanding himself for his paranoia, Graham settled his nerves and explained the situation to Clarice.

"Pearsall told him if that was his decision he wouldn't support him. He told Bloom in no uncertain terms that if he goes beyond the boundaries of his assignment and mentions either you or your baby in that report in an unfavorable light he would dump the report."

Clarice was heartened that Pearsall was lending some level of support. She was however, extremely concerned about Bloom, "Do you think Bloom is going to be that adamant about this?"

Will Graham was confused by this entire process. He would have bet his life that he could predict exactly what Bloom would do under these circumstances he was that much a creature of habit, but not this time. Previously Bloom had been satisfied to be the puppet master, pulling at Chilton's strings, directing the machinations of torment unleashed on Hannibal _behind_ the scenes in the name of psychological study.

He wanted so much to be anonymous in regards to Lecter that he made every effort to keep his name out of the press where Hannibal was concerned. Bloom helped design the restraints, suggested methods of testing, communicated with the FBI and helped to assess outcome all the while he allowed Chilton to absorb the limelight and thus a good deal of the professional recrimination and scorn. Now, he seemed immovable, unyielding. Sensing the fight would be a protracted one, Graham hated to relay his opinion to Clarice

"The real problem is that for some reason, the more Pearsall argued against Bloom's decision, the more Bloom stuck to his guns. I mean that guy really dug in his heals and it has me totally confused because standing up to conflict like that is really kind of out of character for Bloom. Normally, he is the king of diplomacy; if someone in authority shoves hard he immediately folds. This time he was so adamant and uncompromising that it was almost...I don't know if this will sound stupid to you but it seemed unbelievably self-destructive. Do me a favor and explain this to Hannibal. Tell him that Pearsall and I defended him. We'll have to find a way to convince Bloom."

"I'll talk to H about this later. Thanks for giving us the head's up…I really appreciate all you're doing for H and me. You've been a good friend to us, Will. I just want you to know how much it means to us both, especially to me. Hannibal has a tough time having friends. He's not…trusting by nature. He's had good reason not to be. I just wanted you to know you're appreciated even if he can't express that."

Clarice could practically hear the smile as it widened across Graham's face.

"It's nice of you to say that, Clarice. I get that he's never going to be that type of friend. Christ knows he was a terrifying enemy so I'm pretty happy to keep things just the way they are. When the report is ready I'm sure Pearsall will call me in so we'll be a step ahead of the process all along. We'll talk again soon."

"Thanks Will. Take care."

"You too, Clarice."

Clarice set the phone down. To ease her worry she began to busy herself rubbing Hannibal's back as he cradled her belly and, to her knowledge, still slept upon it.

Hannibal sensed her worry and though he didn't share it he felt obligated to address it. He shifted and slowly stretched as if slowly coming awake, "Clarice, I sense concern."

Clarice hesitated for the briefest of moments before proceeding as if not verbalizing the situation would in some way prevent it. Finally she blurted out emotionally, "Will Graham just called, H. He said Bloom is hell bent on separating you from our family. He doesn't give a damn about your score on that test. His mind is made up."

Hannibal's tone showed no sign of worry, rather he seemed confused as to Clarice's concern, "There is a measure of surprise in your voice and a scent of…fear, why? I had already told you as much, Clarice. Please take my word that I am not only prepared for that contingency, I_ encouraged_ it."

Clarice was so surprised she quickly shoved Hannibal's shoulders from her body forcing him to sit up and face her. The rapid escalation of anger caused her voice to tremble, "What the fuck do you mean you _encouraged_ it? Jesus Christ, H…Are you _kidding_ me?"

Hannibal stood silently, smoothed his clothing and walked to the fireplace with such fluid movement and ease he seemed to almost glide. The fire had long extinguished so he grabbed the poker that matched the elegant andiron set and closed the flue. Slowly replacing the tool to its stand, he stood for a moment with his back turned away from Clarice.

_What shall I tell you, my Love…what will ease your mind? No, only the truth will do. You do not want your mind to be set at ease. You want honesty. _

Clarice was growing irritated by his silence, "_Ignoring_ me? _That's_ mature," she groused.

Hannibal turned toward his wife. Standing straight, his shoulders squared, he shifted his weight onto his back leg, slipped his hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers and spoke very softly, "I am not ignoring you, Clarice. I am certain you expect honesty and am considering how to frame this in a way that will not add to your stress."

Clarice crossed the room and stood face to face with Hannibal, challenging him, "Don't fuck with me, H. If you've got something up your sleeve beside that Harpy I want to know about it."

His body was unnatural in its stillness moving only enough to speak, "Do you honestly think I would agree to this interview if I did not have a solid plan and a backup plan in the event there were unforeseen circumstances?" Hannibal approached his wife and smoothed his hands over her shoulders, his fingertips trailed down her arms.

Warmed by the contact, Clarice closed her eyes with his touch.

Hannibal reached for her hands and gently laced his digits within hers. Opening his arms as he held her hands, the momentum pulled her to him.

"I was able to lure our dear Doctor Bloom into a state of suggestibility. I implanted several suggestions that I believe will in the long term protect us. In the short term, it may present a variety of difficulties though I am certain I can handle those as well."

"_Suggestibility_…You _hypnotized_ that idiot?" Clarice half-laughed at the thought of it.

Seeing her obvious amusement, Hannibal flashed a wicked grin, "Yes, in a manner of speaking."

Clarice wrapped her arms around Hannibal's neck and whispered in his ear, "What suggestions did you make, H?"

Hannibal placed Clarice's hands on his hips and pulled her against his body shifting against her to feel her more fully. He breathed deeply and focused on the changes in her body, now much softer and even more voluptuous with her blossoming pregnancy.

Wanting to focus solely on his wife, Hannibal hated to sully his thoughts with Bloom. He whispered huskily in her ear, his amorous intentions, like his breath, hot against her flesh, "Must we speak of this now, my Love?"

Clarice forced his focus, "Yeah, now H. What did you suggest?"

Hannibal searched her throat, mouthing the area where he left his mark earlier, the heat within him being stoked by the contact he spoke against her neck between tastes of her flesh, "Hmmm, nothing that… he would find… morally reprehensible… I assure you."

Encouraging the contact, Clarice allowed her head to roll slightly exposing her neck to him though she remained focused enough to require an explanation, "What's that mean exactly, H?"

Hannibal continued to focus on the taste of her. He mouthed tenderly, careful to keep his teeth and his aggression at bay, "I merely… reinforced ideas… he had… already… been…cultivating."

Clarice was growing so distracted by his attention she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back slightly. She met his eyes and spoke plainly, "We know the ideas he was cultivating and none of them were good for us, H."

It was getting late and Hannibal still had preparations for the following day, he longed to take his wife to their bed, "It is time to retire, Clarice. It will be Valentine's Day in one hour and I would very much like to _celebrate_."

"Don't dodge the question, H," Clarice cautioned, "I'm not going to be _handled_. What did you suggest?"

"We can walk and talk, yes Clarice?"

"Sure, as long as you stop dodging the question, H."

Hannibal smiled and took Clarice, leading her by the hand out of the family room to begin the brief walk up the stairs to their bedroom. The tone of Hannibal's voice was soothing and confident, "Let us just say that I encouraged him to take those ideas maybe a bit further than he would have done so himself. In that way those same ideas become less dangerous to us and more to him."

As they took to the stairs with Clarice two steps ahead. Hannibal continued to reach for her as they ascended, enticed by the swing of her hips with the rise of each step.

Clarice was no longer worried as much as curious, her voice unburdened by earlier fears, "Why would taking his ideas further be helpful to us? I'd argue that the opposite would be true."

They reached the top landing and Hannibal immediately took his place at his wife's side resting his hand at the curve of her back.

Instinctively, she shifted her weight against him. As they walked Hannibal explained his intention, "If Bloom is seen to be…vindictive or is judged to be seeking retribution instead of simply evaluating my mental status it would negate his assessment."

Now in the bedroom the pair began to undress as they discussed the situation. Clarice slipped out of her clothing without noticing that Hannibal was focused on her progress. She questioned him without looking up, "What did you need the cameras and recording devices for?"

Hannibal undressed as he explained his mindset, his eyes on Clarice as she slipped into their bed, "The recording devices provide proof that I took the test in good faith and answered all of the questions honestly as put to me."

"Why would he lie about that?" Clarice questioned as she leaned on an elbow and flipping back the covers, welcomed her husband into their bed. Hannibal slid quickly between the sheets and took her in his arms. He kissed her gently.

Clarice captured his face and redirected him, "You're losing focus H…why so many different devices to record the meeting?"

"I'm sorry Clarice…with the recording devices in place, Bloom cannot fabricate a situation to his benefit. He cannot say that I was threatening or violent in any way. If he chooses to pursue this matter, and believe me he will, I will have evidence on multiple platforms to support the assessment that I am indeed, of sound mind…"

Hannibal covered Clarice's body carefully with his and kissed her passionately, "…and very sound body."

**VALENTINE'S DAY: Part One**

Hannibal rose early the morning of Valentine's Day that he might purchase the groceries needed for the evening. He visited the grocery store and purchased the majority of his needs. He walked the aisles in search of the elusive pink confection Clarice described.

_Where in the world might one find something of that nature? _

Hannibal finally walked down the bread aisle and saw a large rack on the end cap filled with assorted confectionary snacks. He discovered the SNO-BALLS, and placed several packages in his cart.

His next stop would be Glarus Chocolatiers in Baltimore to pick up the basket he had requested be assembled for Clarice. The basket contained a thirty-six piece box of assorted truffles, a thirty-six piece box of assorted Swiss chocolates, bags of bittersweet and sweet almonds, chocolate covered espresso beans, and some drinking chocolate and scattered about the inside were a variety of handmade bar chocolate, and dark chocolate bark.

The purchase was quick the proprietors friendly as Hannibal paid for the gift and thanked them for the lovely presentation. The basket was well-wrapped in cellophane and topped with a deep, chocolate colored bow, Hannibal deciding that a heart shaped box was neither his nor his wife's style and allowed the owners to wrap the basket in the manner of their shop. Hannibal then ventured home with his parcels to begin cooking.

Clarice woke to find the house smelling like a bakery. Hannibal had prepared freshly squeezed juice, and baked tarts made with fresh figs, toasted pignoli, and honey. There was a note centered on the breakfast bar beside the tarts.

**Dearest Clarice,**

**Happy Valentine's Day, my Love. Forgive my brief absence as I am purchasing the necessary items for our celebratory dinner. **

**Enjoy the tarts while you await my return. Figs, pignoli, and honey have long been considered aphrodisiacs. Please indulge as I intend to do as such for the remainder of the day and evening. **

**Rest assured as soon as my errands are concluded, I will return to lavish you with my affection.**

**Ever yours,**

**H**

Clarice smiled.

_You think you have a plan, H? What I have planned for you will blow you away._

Hannibal returned within the hour with his arms full of parcels. He carried the groceries in the kitchen and quickly placed the perishables in the refrigerator. Clarice marveled at the energy and intensity with which he moved about.

"Happy Valentine's Day, H," Clarice spoke quickly and grabbed Hannibal's hand as he passed.

Hannibal stopped and bent to kiss his wife tenderly, "Happy Valentine's Day, my Love. My apologies for seeming to ignore you, I have plans to execute. I wouldn't serve meatballs that haven't been cooking for several hours. To that end, I needed to visit the market and must start my preparations immediately. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to give you the first part of your gift."

Hannibal slipped away, quickly returning to Clarice carrying the large basket of chocolates.

"I thought the traditional red heart full of second rate chocolates would not be satisfying, Clarice."

Clarice smiled widely, "You don't even do candy halfway do you, H?"

"There is a very high quality drinking chocolate that you might enjoy with your tarts. Chocolate is also said to be an aphrodisiac. Montezuma consumed fifty cups of chocolate from a golden goblet to increase his sexual prowess. "

"Sounds like a bunch of crap to me, H."

"Perhaps, though there is a basis in human physiology to support it. Eating chocolate releases Phenylethylamine and Serotonin into the system producing the same euphoric effects as sexual arousal," Hannibal winked at Clarice and flashed a suggestive smile, "Eat your tarts and chocolates my Love as you will need every bit of your energy. Last night aside, I would have you well-contented this day my Love."

Clarice stuffed an entire tart into her mouth and gobbled it down in one ravenous bite, "Don't worry about me, H…as long as _you_ can keep it up…_I'll_ keep up!"

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! The time- Valentine's Day Part Two!

Review and tell me what you think, then PM and say Hi!

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH


	91. Chapter 91

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay my friends- due to the nature of the holiday this chapter will contain a lemon- just a head's up for those who would prefer not to partake! ** ** I will warn you just before the event so that you won't miss any of the plot line but can avoid any offense lol!**

**VALENTINE'S DAY: Part Two**

**HANNIBAL'S GIFT**

Clarice opened the basket and, as she removed the contents, sought some further details as to the situation with Bloom. She wanted to trust that all would be well, but she was no longer the fresh faced agent in training she was when first she and Hannibal met; cynicism now a constant partner.

"If you recorded the entire session, H it'll be pretty freaking obvious to any and all who see it that you hypnotized Bloom. How's that gonna help us?"

"If that were the case, Clarice it wouldn't. I had several cameras with sound hooked to a toggle switch beneath my desk. When Bloom signaled the end of the meeting, I asked him to confirm that the session was complete. Upon his confirmation, I flipped the switch. That disengaged every camera save one."

Clarice set the basket on the counter and moved behind her husband. Putting her arms around him she rested her head between his shoulders and teased, "You are one brilliantly devious bastard and I mean that as a compliment, H!"

Hannibal reached back for his wife and turned into her embrace. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

"If that was meant as a compliment, I will take it as such." He pulled her into a tighter embrace leaned against the marble counter and comfortable holding her, began to explain his thinking.

"By asking Dr. Bloom to reiterate the meeting had indeed concluded I have secured evidence that the devices recorded the entirety of the meeting. Bloom has no conscious recollection of the hypnosis therefore no one will challenge the evidence. The visual and auditory record stops at a very natural cessation point. No one will be the wiser."

Clarice was incredulous. She knew that Hannibal was always prepared. She understood that his mind was capable of processing details others might miss, but hypnosis? That was truly inspired.

"You have the hypnosis on tape?" she asked with a good deal of curiosity in her voice.

Hannibal answered rather proudly, "Yes…In its entirety."

Clarice ran a finger down her husband's chest and questioned coyly, "Can I see it?"

Hannibal teased, "Are we still talking about the tape?"

"Oh, don't be such a wise ass, H."

Hannibal was somewhat amused at Clarice's obvious frustration. He was not as enthused as she to review the material today and hedged, "Certainly you may, Clarice, however I would prefer to share it with you on a day _other_ than today. I would hope and expect that you can purge the offensive Doctor Bloom from your thoughts for at least the next twenty-four hours. It was your decision that we spend this time quietly at home. As it is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, my most fervent desire is that I be the only man on your mind this day. Is that an unreasonable request?"

"No, H…That's perfectly reasonable. I'm sorry." She pulled him close and very discreetly pressed her hips against his. "I promise you _are_ the only man on my mind. You don't know this yet but I have something planned for you too and I'm really excited about it. I can't wait to see your face when it arrives!"

Hannibal touched his tongue to the bottom of his teeth and tipped his head slightly as he considered her statement. His voice held a hint of anticipation, "Ah, Clarice…having something delivered to the house?"

Clarice smoothed her hands over his chest and looked up into his eyes pleased to see a twinkle of surprise. Her tone was animated as she realized he was not feigning ignorance. He still had no clue.

"Yes, in an hour or so. Why don't you get that sauce of yours put together so it can simmer while you enjoy your gift. I think you'll want to spend a little time with it."

Hannibal wondered what she could have come up with. "You are really piquing my curiosity, Clarice."

She tapped a loving finger to his chin and taunted just slightly, "It's nice to know I can still slip something past you, H."

"Clarice, you are the only person I have ever come across whose mind processes in such a unique way that I am often taken by surprise. It is your most attractive attribute. I find that I am constantly a bit off-balance in your presence."

She reached her arms around his neck and spoke against his lips, "And that's a good thing?"

Hannibal kissed her briefly and explained, "It is a good thing because although I am attracted to patterns in the physical world, I find with relationships that predictability can be more than a little tedious, boring even. You, my Love, are a constant surprise and thus a constant _stimulant_."

Clarice laughed and pushed him back crossing her index fingers and extending her hands as if warding off evil, "Get back…Back! The last thing you need is any kind of a stimulant! I'm going to make a call and check on the status of your gift. I'll be back in a bit."

Hannibal called out after her, "You can run from me now, Clarice but rest assured before the day is through I will have my way with you."

Clarice poked her head around the door frame and flirted, "Rest assured, before the day is through, I'll let you!"

She slipped back around the door leaving Hannibal in amused anticipation as he pulled out the pots and pans he would need to ready their evening meal.

Clarice walked as quickly as she could all the way down the long hall leading to Hannibal's study to see about the delivery of the gift. When she was certain she was out of range for his hypersensitive hearing she reached into her pocket, took out her cell phone and placed the call. It took several minutes for the concierge assigned to her purchase to confirm the delivery. He came back on the line in a friendly and professional manner.

"Mrs. Lecter your husband's gift will be arriving in approximately thirty minutes. I have confirmation that the item was picked up as arranged and the driver is on the road as we speak."

Clarice sought confirmation of her arrangements, "And the purchase was not billed until this morning?"

"Yes, there is no way, unless Doctor Lecter goes online within the next hour that he will have prior knowledge of the gift through our billing department."

"Thanks…he's just so meticulous about his statements that I didn't want him to be tipped off about the gift before the surprise. Thanks so much for your time and your help."

"It was my pleasure, Mrs. Lecter."

Clarice moved about the house for the next thirty minutes knowing that Hannibal preferred to be alone in the kitchen as he cooked. It didn't hurt that she was so excited about his gift that she believed she would give away the secret. She had been guarding the purchase since the night Hannibal gave her the black card to shop with Ardelia. Deciding that the arrival time must be near she checked the clock and went into the kitchen, nibbling on one of the chocolates Hannibal had given her. She carried an extra in her hand and went to see her husband.

"Well hello, Clariiiice," Hannibal teased in his best dungeon tone.

"Hello yourself," she answered as she popped the chocolate she was carrying into his mouth.

"I will be but a minute more," Hannibal offered, "The meatballs are almost finished. I have only to place them in the sauce."

The doorbell rang.

Clarice jumped up excitedly, "Oh my God, it's here! Finish H…hurry up and finish. You have to come with me to the door. It's too big for me to carry inside. I'll get your coat it will take a few minutes."

Clarice ran to the hallway, put her coat on quickly and grabbed Hannibal's. He called out to her from the kitchen, "One would think the delivery person quite capable of bringing the gift into the home, Clarice."

Clarice returned and draped Hannibal's coat over a chair, "Oh don't be such a pain in the ass, H. I went to a lot of trouble and I put a lot of other people to a lot of trouble to get you this gift so just drop the flipping meatballs in the sauce and let's go!"

Hannibal finished quickly, placed the meatballs in the sauce, lowered the heat, gave it a quick stir and turned to Clarice.

"I'm at your disposal, my Love."

Clarice untied and removed his apron and handed him his coat, "Come on H…I'm so damned excited about this…you're going to be _so_ surprised."

Clarice dragged Hannibal to the front door and opened it. "Close your eyes, H."

Hannibal did as Clarice directed. She opened the door and waved over the man sent to deliver the gift. The young man approached. Clarice spoke quietly to Hannibal not wanting the driver to grab him without his knowledge.

"Okay, H…There is a young man here and he's going to help me lead you to the gift so when you feel him grab your arm just go with it."

"Very well, Clarice. Your young man has recently dispensed gasoline?"

The young man was shocked as he had used rubber gloves when he pumped the gas and had removed and discarded them prior to returning to the car.

"Well he is the driver, H. He didn't fly here." Clarice saw the expression on the driver's face and explained, "He's got an insanely accurate sense of smell."

As they approached the gift Hannibal's hand tightened its grip on Clarice's. Clarice looked up to see that Hannibal's eyes were squeezed tightly shut though his nostrils were flared and his head lifted, turning as he searched the air.

The driver watched him, amazed at the process.

Slowly a knowing smile spread across Hannibal Lecter's face.

"Clarice, I smell something very…familiar. I will be exceedingly impressed and quite pleased if you have purchased what I believe I recognize."

Clarice was smiling so widely she was barely able to contain her glee. He voice was ebullient, "What do you think it is, H?"

"I believe it is a Bentley…more specifically, based on the scent of the engine a supercharged Bentley… _my_ supercharged Bentley."

The driver was in awe, his mouth hanging open at the accuracy of Hannibal's prediction. He looked to Clarice in utter shock.

Clarice smiled, "I told you he had an insanely accurate sense of smell."

Hannibal opened his eyes to see the car he owned so many years before parked directly in front of his home. He pulled Clarice close.

"I am in utter awe of you, Clarice. It is an amazing and extremely thoughtful gift, my Love."

"So was my Mustang, H. I wanted to return the favor. I hope you like it."

"It is perfect. I am curious, however. How did you manage such a large purchase without garnering my attention?"

"Never give a woman a credit card that has no limit and a private concierge for each purchase. They billed it upon delivery so it will show up on your statement within the hour. Hope you don't mind."

"Mind…why would I mind? I have told you before it is _our_ money not my money. You have no spending limit. How did you find the exact car?"

"Lloyd ran the VIN through the FBI database. The concierge did the rest."

"Remind me to thank Lloyd when next we see him."

The driver handed Hannibal the keys to his car.

"Drive it in good health, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal clutched the keys tightly in his fist. "Thank you so much. Can we drop you off somewhere? It seems that thanks to us, your transportation is no longer available."

"It is kind of you to offer, but I arranged a ride." The young man pointed to a black sedan parked across the street. "Again, enjoy the vehicle and Happy Valentine's Day to you both."

Hannibal reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed the young man two one hundred dollar bills. "Thank you so much for you time and effort and please thank your driver for being so patient."

"Thank you, Doctor, that's not an official driver it's my girlfriend. Your delivery was my only assignment today. She came along partly because we are going to celebrate now."

"Partly…" Hannibal questioned, "…what was the other factor in her decision?"

"Actually she was really excited to hear that the car was coming to you. This is embarrassing…forgive me for getting personal but she's the crazy romantic type and kind of obsessed with your relationship. She hoped she would catch a glimpse of you both. She's a bit of a fan-girl."

Clarice tipped her head in the direction of the girl and smiled, "What do you think, H?"

With the arch of his eyebrow Hannibal questioned her intention, "What do I think about what, my Love?"

"What do you think about meeting the young lady in the car across the street?"

"Ah, yes…the hopelessly romantic young lady. If meeting the young Miss would give _you_ pleasure, it would be _my_ pleasure, Clarice."

Hannibal waved his hand graciously, "After you young man. As you are the only one present familiar with all parties involved we will rely on you to make the introductions."

"Really? Oh my god she's going to be so happy." The young man turned and without looking dashed across the street, calling back to the couple as he held up briefly to avoid being hit by an oncoming car. "Please, wait there Doctor Lecter, Mrs. Lecter…I'll bring my girlfriend to you."

The young man ran around the driver's side of the car and tapped on the window. Though they could not hear the conversation, Hannibal and Clarice could hear an excited and ear piercing squeal coming from the direction of the car.

"Did you hear that, H?" Clarice asked. Of course he had but being that she was so amused she wanted to bring attention to it nonetheless.

"Yes. One hopes that is the reaction of the young lady and not that of her gentleman."

Clarice nudged Hannibal playfully, "That's for sure!"

The young girlfriend, accompanied by her young man walked hand in hand across the street to meet Hannibal and Clarice. The young man spoke first, "Doctor Lecter, Mrs. Lecter, let me first introduce myself, my name is Daniel Redmond and please allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Cara Biselle."

"We are very pleased to meet you both," Clarice extended her hand to the young woman. "Please call me Clarice and this is my husband, Hannibal."

The young woman spoke very quietly as she extended her hand first to Clarice, then to Hannibal. Hannibal did not release her hand, holding it gently as the young woman clamored, "You have no idea how much I just love you both. Your love story is…inspirational. I'm so honored to meet you."

Hannibal was pleased by the manners of the young couple. He spoke very kindly to the young lady, winking at her as he spoke, "That is very kind of you to say, Cara. Is young Daniel an attentive boyfriend or should I have a private word with him on your behalf?"

The young lady looked down at Hannibal's hand still gently holding hers and blushed as she spoke, "He's a wonderful boyfriend, Doctor Lecter."

"I am heartened to hear that." Hannibal bent at the waist, chastely kissed the young woman's hand and gently released it.

Cara giggled nervously. The young man put his arm around his girlfriend and smiled widely, "We'll leave you to enjoy the rest of your day. Thanks so much. It was a pleasure to meet you both."

"The pleasure was ours, I assure you," Hannibal responded.

The young girl bounced excitedly beside her young man, now a hero in her eyes he held her hand as they crossed the street.

Hannibal was curious, "Let us see how well-mannered her gentleman is."

Understanding what he was thinking, Clarice voiced his thought, "You think he'll open the door for her?"

Hannibal nodded confidently, "Yes. Judging from the way he has handled himself thus far I believe he was raised well. He will most assuredly escort her properly into the vehicle."

Hannibal and Clarice watched as the young man escorted his lady to the car and opened the door for her. He waited patiently as she entered the car and when certain she was secure within the vehicle, he closed her door. Daniel waved enthusiastically as he ran around the other side and entered the car.

"Well, that was fun!" Clarice exclaimed, "Now let's take this puppy out for a spin."

Hannibal turned toward the car and admired it, "It has a lovely rear end, does it not?"

"I prefer yours." Clarice kidded as she reached under Hannibal's overcoat and grabbed him.

Hannibal quickly captured her mouth and kissed her. From the corner of his eye he could see Cara turning her head fully to watch the amorous exchange as their car passed. Her curiosity and obvious interest in them amused Hannibal greatly leading him to kiss Clarice far more passionately than would be his habit in public.

His voice husky against her cheek, "I prefer yours as well, Clarice and would love to see it nestled snugly in the passenger seat."

Hannibal guided Clarice to the car and opened the door allowing her entrance. As he walked around the back of the car, he dragged his fingertips along the body as if re-familiarizing himself with an old friend. He opened the door, slipped into the driver's seat and breathing deeply, placed his hands on the steering wheel.

"It is a lovely gift, Clarice. I have thought of this car frequently over the years. It really is the exact car?"

Clarice smiled, "It really is and you wear it well, H…glad it fit."

"Let us see if after all these years…what do you have for me my beauty?" Hannibal reached under the seat and moved his hand around for a few moments. Suddenly, as his hand fell upon the object of his search, he smiled.

"What did you find, H?"

Hannibal withdrew an object wrapped tightly in plastic. Hannibal carefully unwrapped the object of his search, a silver handled Harpy. Thumbing it open, he revealed the serrated edge still stained with blood. Hannibal drew the blade slowly beneath his nose, closed his eyes briefly and flashed the most wicked of smiles as a door to his memory palace opened allowing him to revisit the death of Benjamin Raspail.

Understanding the situation, Clarice rolled her eyes and laughed, "Okay, H…Enjoy your moment but keep it to yourself. I don't even _want_ to know." `1

"I was simply reacquainting myself with an old friend, Clarice."

Hannibal placed the keys in the dashboard ignition and smiled again as the engine roared to life.

"She is beautiful, Clarice. Just as I remember her. Thank you."

"You're welcome, H. Why don't we go for a short ride while your sauce simmers?"

Hannibal nodded, "Why not." He put the car in gear and quickly pulled out into the road.

Though it was a crisp winter day and a new snow had dusted the landscape, Clarice enjoyed watching Hannibal more than she enjoyed the sites along the way. This was the first gift she had given her husband that she believed was truly inspired. The look on his face as he pressed the gas, feeling the response of the car as he asked more of it was priceless. She was thrilled.

Hannibal wasn't comfortable leaving his sauce untended for more than twenty minutes. So they headed home. He parked the car, turned off the ignition and remained behind the wheel for what seemed to Clarice to be forever, though it was no more than two or three minutes.

"Thank you, Clarice. I hope the gifts I purchased for you will equal this in thoughtfulness. You could not have chosen better."

"Gifts, H…" Clarice questioned. What did you do?"

"One of the gifts is in our home here. The other gift is being held for you in Argentina and will be delivered the day after we return to that home."

Hannibal reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a card. It was a hand painted valentine. There was a likeness of Clarice cradled in Hannibal's arms. His head was lowered, his cheek resting on her shoulder. Inside it read simply, to my Love, Clarice on Valentine's Day- Ever yours, H

Within the card was a photograph of a chestnut mare with a white star shaped marking between her eyes. She wore a loose hackamore with a deep purple ribbon fastened to the side. The name on the ribbon read, Hannah.

Tears fell from Clarice's eyes.

"The gift was meant to please you, Clarice. I understand that it references a difficult event in your life therefore, if it upsets you, I will return her."

"I'm not upset, H…I'm touched. You never cease to amaze me."

"You amaze me as well, Clarice."

"Hey…H!"

"Clarice?"

"Let's get inside so you can stir your sauce. We've got a few hours until dinner. I'll meet you in the bedroom and will see what else we can stir up."

_**LEMON WARNING! Stop reading if you have any misgivings! I promise you won't miss any plot points!**_

Hannibal attended to the sauce, stirring it vigorously. As he moved quickly through the kitchen, his mind drifted to the bedroom. He imagined he was witnessing Clarice as she removed her clothing. It was a sight he never tired of. He inhaled deeply, recalling the release of her scent as she peeled off the layers of her clothing the evening previous. Disappointed that she would likely be in bed when he reached the bedroom, Hannibal finished quickly and bounded up the stairway taking two steps at a time. Clarice was resting on her left side with her back to the door. He examined the curve of her back, one leg lifted slightly over the other, the slightest hint of her sex. Fully nude, to Hannibal's heightened senses her scent was heavy in the air.

_Tempting me, Clarice? You have been more successful than you can know._

Hannibal undressed quickly and slipped beneath the covers sidling his body, already firm with desire, alongside Clarice. She moved slightly, a hint of an airy breath escaped her.

Hannibal could not see her face, though he was certain from that sound and from the relaxed pattern of her breathing, that she had fallen asleep.

Wrapping his arms around his wife, Hannibal stretched out against her body and enjoyed the pattern of her breathing. The heat of his body and the contact against her, stirred Clarice slowly awake. She stretched against him sending surges of warmth and energy along Hannibal's nerve endings. He nuzzled his nose along the warm skin of her neck placing whispers of kisses just behind her ear.

Clarice moved to roll toward him but Hannibal stayed her, holding her hips as he pressed against her. He continued to kiss her neck. His wife arched her back against him, and turned her head to expose her neck further. He hummed low and deep, the vibration of which caused a warm sensation to flood Clarice's body as he explored the pleasure of her flesh hot against his lips.

"Hannibal…" Clarice spoke his full name, hoping it would shift his attention. It did not.

Hannibal was lost within himself, searching her body with his mouth; just this small section of tender flesh had become the world to him. He memorized the warmth, the salty taste of it. He inhaled the scent, memorizing the bright mixture of her soaps and lotions, all hand-engineered to his exact specifications to enhance and compliment her own personal scent. He wrapped himself within the sensory blanket of sights, and smells and tastes that were his Clarice.

Though he was a patient lover, this singular attention to an area more sensual than sexual in nature was unusual. Clarice, now fully awake, questioned, "Hannibal? Is everything okay?"

Hannibal's urged, "Please, Clarice…allow me this."

Hannibal wrapped his fingers through her hair and could feel the silky texture of it as he nudged further along her neckline. He gently curled locks of it around his fingers, twisting and releasing the curls and the scent of her shampoo with it.

This full spectrum of sensations began to overwhelm him. As he pursued her flesh, now radiating want, he contemplated the fullness of time and how so long ago the carnal indignity of a mad man encouraged Hannibal to call out to her. This decision was uncharacteristically spontaneous for a cautious man. Although he had so cruelly dismissed her, the urgency and sincerity of his call, combined with her ambition and natural curiosity brought her running back to him.

That one moment, that decision, set this life into motion. It so easily could have been different. _He_ so easily could have been different. He reached around her for the child within and grasped her belly.

"Clarice…" he managed, his voice rich with emotion. He nuzzled against her merely seeking comfort.

Pressed against her body, flushed with his own desire he pondered the coldness of the asylum glass warming upon her return to him, heated both from his anger and his sudden attraction to her. She was so bold, so brave…so young.

"I need you, Clarice," he whispered.

Believing he was signaling his desire for her body she attempted to turn into him.

Again, he stalled her movement and whispered in her ear, "No…I _need_ you. Your presence in my life is central to my existence. I… wanted you… to know that."

She sensed his difficulty, "I know H, I know. I feel the same way."

He turned her toward him and began to kiss her softly, gently probing with his lips and tongue.

Clarice sought more direct contact reaching down and taking hold of her husband she gently moved her hand slowly, rhythmically, encouraging his attention to her.

Hannibal closed his eyes, his lips parted slightly as a low groan rumbled from deep within. He dropped his head to her shoulder and shifted his hips allowing her freedom to move. Slowly she caressed him as he nestled his cheek along hers, his breathing deepening as he rolled his hips against her body.

"H…soon…I need you soon."

Hannibal searched her throat, trailing his tongue along her flesh she sighed her approval pulling at his shoulders in a vain attempt to draw her closer to him. She sped the movement of her hand.

Hannibal bucked slightly at the increased contact and pulled back from her.

"Did I hurt you, H?"

Just a whisper, "No…slow…Clarice…Slow…"

Hannibal moved along her body, tracing a tiny trail with his tongue down between the dip of her collarbone, along the sternum. He rested his cheek on her right breast and watched, as with the rising and falling of her breath her left breast undulated just slightly. He marveled at the peak of flesh topping it."

"You are perfection, Clarice."

"I'm also impatient H…I want you…now."

Hannibal lifted his head and captured her breast, hearing her breath catch just slightly as his teeth nicked the sensitive flesh.

"Mmmmm, H…that's so good." Encouraged, he latched to her sucking firmly. She released a deep sensual sound that burned itself into Hannibal's memory.

The sensations of her tightly pebbled flesh constricting to his probing teeth and tongue, Hannibal captured the moment and stored it for later enjoyment. He teased at the flesh and received as a gift for his attention to her, a long, protracted sound, deep and throaty with desire.

"Oh, God…H…Oh God…"

Hannibal sought her flesh, again staying within this small window of her form. This minute piece of anatomy the total focus of his desire became for Hannibal a bright light of pleasure that fully illuminated his consciousness.

Clarice attempted to shift her body and positioned his firm flesh so that she might accept him.

"_Now_, H…I want you now."

Hannibal, still within his mind, pulled her over his body.

"Are you sure, H?"

"Your breasts, Clarice."

Clarice leaned forward offering her body to him as Hannibal slowly pressed himself into her. His stomach fluttered as a light, wispy breath, the same airy sigh of want he was accustomed to, whispered in his ear.

Hearing this escalated Hannibal's hunger. With no more than her name on his lips to voice his adoration, she understood the full measure of his desire, "Clarice…Clarice…"

Hannibal whispered his love to his wife as he pushed himself deeper within.

Leaning into her husband, Clarice rocked gently, her breasts brushing back and forth across his face.

Hannibal breached his body and captured her flesh again, latching to her as he moved within.

Clarice moved gently with him, encouraging him, further fueling his passion, "Yes…yes…H…Yes."

Hannibal rolled his hips upward, driving himself more fully within. He did not release her breast.

Clarice moved back and forth, rocking over him, tilted to offer her breasts, her body angle intensified her pleasure. She bent over him, breathless.

Hannibal felt her body tensing around him, and above him. His own release too close, he allowed his mind to wander the halls of his memory palace. He stood before the painting of Leda and the Swan that had been owned by the German man Hannibal rented a home from along the Chesapeake as he awaited the closing of the home he purchased in Barney's name. He examined the coupling and mused, as he had when first he stood before it, that there was real heat in the moment.

Within the great halls of the palace, he could hear Clarice, passion building as she moved above him, groan as her body shuddered with the beginnings of her ecstasy.

Hannibal shifted his attention from the heat of the painting to the real heat of the moment. He pulled her shoulders to secure his mouth more firmly to her breast, teasing the flesh now peaked from lust. As he suckled, she whispered, "Oh…oh…oh…Hannibal…Hannibal…Oh, God…Oh, God!"

Clarice doubled over him, her body quaking with her rapture and Hannibal grabbed her hips and drove himself within. The muscles within closed tightly around him. Hannibal closed his eyes and allowed his body to_ feel_. He breathed the heated scent of their coupling, mixing and blending heady with the taste of it as it passed through his nostrils and over his tongue.

He felt the squeezing compression of her femininity as she held him tightly within. All personal, all emotional, all Clarice, and all Hannibal's he finally gave himself to his own pleasure.

Hannibal released Clarice's breast and arched his back. He opened his eyes and grabbed her hips pulling her to him as he moved himself upward. Clarice clutched his shoulders, leaned over and whispered in his ear, her voice still breathy from exertion, "Give it all to me, H…I want you all."

Hannibal's body shuddered as he released himself within the woman he loved.

Clarice lowered herself to him and held him as his body shook in ecstasy. She remained steady, unmoving until his body relaxed in full surrender to her.

After several moments of stillness, his breathing finally aligning with her own Hannibal whispered in his wife's ear, "You're mine, Clarice…All mine."

Holding him tightly to her she whispered in return, "I'm all yours, H…_Only yours_."

This moment, Clarice's gift to Hannibal, was the most satisfying gift of all.

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	92. Chapter 92

**AVOIDING VIOLENCE**

After dinner, Clarice and Hannibal retired to the family room and relaxed on the sofa across from the fireplace. They rested there for several hours, holding each other and occasionally talking as they listened to Hannibal's rich collection of music. They were currently listening to Beniamino Gigli's rendition of The Pearl Fishers. Hannibal was intent as Clarice listened to the lyrical tones of the tenor and watched the light of the fire play off her husband's regal profile.

Hannibal sat staring forward in the direction of the fireplace, though it seemed his eyes were somewhat unfocused. It was as if his mind were in another place. Clarice rested her head on his lap feeling the warmth of his body and enjoying the rhythm of his touch as she watched the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes.

Appearing calm and relaxed Hannibal continued to stare ahead and continually smoothed his hands over his wife's belly much like a fortune teller would rub a crystal ball.

Clarice reached up and brushed the back of her hand along his cheek, "It's getting late, H…it's ten minutes 'til midnight, bedtime soon?"

There was no reaction to her touch. Hannibal seemed far away from her and did not attend to the sound of her voice at all. It was as if her words were unheard.

For his part, Hannibal was not ignoring her he was simply functioning far too deep within his thoughts to attend to minutia. He had been intently considering the Silentium Universi reflecting on the opinions of Stephen Hawking and Carl Sagan in respect to the Fermi paradox. He was running a complex series of calculations within his mind regarding the mathematical components of scale verses probability.

The computations he formulated based on his interpretation of the theory preoccupied his thoughts as the calculations evolved within his brilliant mind. So, as his wife admired the way the fire danced within his eyes he delved into an intense assessment of time evolution equations as they relate to density states within closed timelike curves.

Clarice watched the machinations of his mind churning with the intensity of his gaze. With interest she watched his eyes track up and down, side to side as his mind scrawled the computations in the space in front of him as if he were scrawling the computations physically. Suddenly, Hannibal's eyes focused on a single object in the blank space before him. A smile crossed his face and he tilted his head slightly, appearing almost as if he were standing in a museum admiring a piece of art work.

His lashes did not flutter and his eyes remained unblinking as Clarice focused intently on the phenomenon. She was now accustomed to this state, being a less than unusual visual fixation.

_He hasn't blinked in fifteen minutes…how the hell does he do that?_

Again, she sought his attention by patting and smoothing her hand across his chest as she continued calling out his given name, "Hannibal…_Hannibal!_"

Standing in the room of his memory palace dedicated to Supersymmetric String Theory Hannibal admired a colorful three dimensional visual representation of the Theoretical Calabi-Yau space. He manipulated the object with his mind, turning it and shifting it to different angles that he might view it better. His hands were not needed and were clasped firmly behind his back.

Within the halls, Hannibal perceived the sound of his wife's voice calling out to him. With a quick twitch and a curious tilt of his head, he shifted his attention from space and time to that of his wife.

"Clarice?"

Clarice sat up and reaching into his now partially unbuttoned Italian silk shirt teased at the hairs on his chest as she flirted, "There are only a couple of minutes left until Valentine's Day is over. I'd love one last Valentine's Day kiss."

Hannibal smiled, "I can do you one better than that."

Clarice let her head drop slowly to his chest, "Oh, God H…not again When we hit that bedroom tonight it's straight to sleep for you! Whether you are or not I'm exhausted and it takes two to tango."

Hannibal smiled at her reference to their more than active sex life.

"If one wishes to extract the maximum pleasure from the process it certainly does_ take two_, however it is nothing like that, Clarice. I assure you as I remain quite satisfied from our earlier…_activities_. I will not pressure you further in that regard. I do, however, have one additional gift. I was saving it for the end of the evening."

Hannibal reached over to the side table, opened the drawer and lifted a box from within. With a smile, he handed the package to Clarice. Hannibal's voice was rich with emotion, "Happy Valentine's Day my Love."

"Happy first of many Valentine's Days, H," she answered with a smile widening with anticipation. "I hope you didn't spend too much."

"Do not be a hypocrite, Clarice. I have been online since we took possession of the Bentley and have seen the price tag. What is in that box, though thoughtful, does not approach the extravagance of your gift to me."

"Well…you're a tough guy to buy for. When I thought of the Bentley, I had to…it was too perfect."

"You will have no argument from me in that regard, Clarice. It was a lovely and thoughtful gift. I would dare say it was the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. Thank you, my Love."

"You're welcome, H."

Clarice very slowly removed the outer paper, and exposed the black presentation box. She opened the velvet case to see find it lined with a rich maroon fabric, the color of which mirrored Hannibal's eyes.

Nestled within rested a platinum bracelet with loose links. The ends of the bracelet were joined by a customized charm closing it. The charm had set in the center a figure eight if held vertically. If held horizontally it appeared as if the symbol represented infinity. Two large diamonds filled the centers of the symbol.

Hannibal reached into the box, removed the bracelet and placed it on Clarice's hand. She held her arm up, twisting her wrist to fully assess the gift. It was obvious from her expression she loved it.

Hannibal explained his purpose, "The charm has a dual meaning, the figure eight represents me, Hannibal Lecter, the Eighth of my lineage, and, if turned on its side, it is the symbol for infinity thus representing our love and my infinite devotion to you."

So touched was she by the gesture that Clarice spoke very softly, "It's wonderful, H…It's absolutely wonderful. I don't know how you come up with such thoughtful gifts?"

"You inspire me, Clarice. You are my Love."

"You inspire me too H. You're my life."

With a simple kiss, the pair concluded their celebration, the first of many to come.

The following afternoon, Hannibal worked in his study on an article he was considering submitting to the Archives. Clarice left the home earlier to run several errands and walked through the house, calling his name upon her return.

"Clarice…I'm in the study," he responded when he picked up her footsteps near the stairs.

As his wife entered his workspace, Hannibal set down his fountain pen and looked up, "Did you complete your errands, Clarice?"

Hannibal pushed his chair back from the desk and offered his lap.

Clarice sat on his lap and draped her arms around his neck. She kissed him briefly and placed her head on his chest. Hannibal lowered his head and rested his cheek on the top of her head, enjoying the scent of her shampoo.

"I just had a few things to bring to the dry cleaners and I needed to stop by the post office."

"I always found visiting the post office amusing. The FBI's ten most wanted list was posted in plain view. I must admit to tempting fate for my own amusement on occasion to see if anyone connected me to the photo on the poster. Not an eyebrow was raised. It was actually quite entertaining. When is your next appointment with the obstetrician, Clarice?"

"Next Tuesday, why do you ask?"

"Curiosity, I would of course like to accompany you. You are approaching your eighth month therefore I have some developmental questions for the Doctor. It has been quite some time since last I participated in a delivery. I am quite excited about the process."

"That's because you aren't going to be passing an eight pound and constantly moving human being through your body."

"I apologize, Clarice. Physiology being such that it is, of the pair of us you must be the unfortunate recipient of that honor."

"Yeah, my mother used to say if men had to have babies it would be the end of civilization as we know it."

"Your mother was probably correct. I don't know that it is a choice I would have made if the circumstances were such."

"So what are you saying, H? Better you than me?"

"I believe I was far more diplomatic than that, though the sentiment is the same."

Clarice suddenly remembered Doctor Bloom. "Hey, H…can I see the tape of the hypnosis? Do you have it?"

Hannibal opened the top drawer to his desk and pulled out a small video tape. He placed it in his wife's hand.

"You may review it, Clarice after which point I will be removing it from the home. It would be foolhardy to store such evidence here."

"Is this tiny tape compatible with the equipment hooked up to our television?"

"I have a convertor that will allow the tape to play in the video cassette recorder. It is in the same compartment where you house your movie collection. Would you like my assistance or may I work in here while you view it?"

Clarice stood and shook her head. "No, you can keep working here. If I have any questions, I'll come back and ask. Anything I should know about it?"

"Only that the tape is forwarded past the actual hypnosis and cued to the discussion portion. I have no need to revisit the hypnotic process, merely the suggestions implanted."

"Yeah, I don't care how you did it. I just want to see what you told him to do."

"Place the tape in the carrier, load it in the player and you will have all the answers you need."

"Thanks for indulging me H. I'm just so freaking curious and I'm a little skittish about this process. I really don't trust this guy."

"You do trust _me_, yes?"

"Of course I do. I trust you to protect our family, H. I just need to avoid having you kill this idiot and he's making it really hard to make a case against that."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Clarice. Believe me you need only give the word."

"Well, I like having you on _this_ side of the glass, H so we'll just have to stick with your plan."

"For now, Clarice…for now."

"Not for now, H…Forever! This idiot is off limits…._Permanently_. He isn't Nico or a couple of gang bangers nobody gives a shit about. This moron ties directly to you. If he slips in the bathtub they'll assume _you _pushed him. Promise me H…Look me directly in the eyes and promise me that you will handle Bloom without violence."

Hannibal pondered exactly what making that promise to Clarice would mean. He considered, within the framework of that sentence, if his backup plan would preclude keeping that promise. He decided it would not.

_Without violence? Yes, that can be accomplished._

Hannibal Lecter looked his wife directly in the eyes, as requested and spoke the promise she required.

"I promise Clarice that I will handle our friend Doctor Bloom without utilizing any violence."

Clarice, not fully understanding Hannibal's literal definition of the semantics involved, kissed her husband and left the room to view the tape fully satisfied with his promise to her.

Hannibal sat behind the desk and smiled as well. Being a Doctor, he understood that there are many ways one person might dispatch another. Though his preferred method might have included extreme violence, Hannibal was a brilliant man. He had already considered many scenarios by which he might rid himself of the offensive Doctor Bloom. Yes…violence could be avoided as the process mattered little to Hannibal. The result would be the same. After all, dead is dead.

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and let me know what you think then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	93. Chapter 93

**Welcome back my friends! **

**VIEWING THE TAPE**

Clarice took the tape and hurried into the family room. She opened the cabinet and after moving a few items about, discovered the converter Hannibal spoke of. Placing the tape within the carrier, Clarice slipped it into the VCR.

Sitting on the sofa, Clarice kicked off her shoes, bent her legs beneath her and reached for the remote.

Pressing the remote to turn on the television, Clarice then changed the source to activate the VCR. She pressed play and held her breath for a moment.

_Okay, H…Let's see what devious little suggestions you tucked into this moron's tiny brain._

From the view of Bloom sitting across from Hannibal, Bloom being the obvious focus, Clarice speculated the camera had been placed just behind Hannibal, shooting over his shoulder. The sound quality, just from the first few words was so exceptional it was obvious Hannibal had included an external microphone rather than go with the one attached to the camera.

_So, you must have mounted a fiber optic camera on the finial of that floor lamp just behind your desk. Did you hang the microphone from the decorative pull…I'll bet you did you fucking brilliant man!_

Clarice watched and listened with breathless anticipation.

Hannibal's hands were folded loosely on his desk. The coin was just in front of him in plain view of Bloom whose eyes continually shifted to the coin. Hannibal spoke very softly, "Alan…may I call you Alan?"

"Certainly Doctor Lecter, may I call you, Hannibal?"

Hannibal picked up the coin and began to roll it again over his knuckles and pass it under his palm with his thumb. "Yes, I invite you to do so, of course. Now that we have finished the interview, may we speak as colleagues, Alan?"

Bloom was still transfixed on the object. His voice was normal in all respects save one. He spoke very softly, his normal confidence replaced. He sounded somewhat distracted, "I'd enjoy that…I've always wanted your opinion, wanted to share experiences with you."

"And we shall see this conversation as being beyond our normal interaction, yes? Separate and distinct, therefore you may be totally honest without fear of reprisal. You will have no memory of our conversation therefore you have no fear of me."

Bloom nodded his head as he stared forward at the coin. "It really is a pity you're so damaged. You might have had an important career."

Hannibal's voice was so soothing Clarice was surprised. It was not a tone of voice she would have connected to Hannibal. The power of his presence was somehow extracted from it.

_Christ, H you've got this guy eating out of your hand. Look at that blank expression on Bloom's face…Remind me to ask you if you've ever hypnotized me…_

Clarice watched intently as Hannibal began to probe, just scratching at the surface of Bloom's inadequacies.

"And that is what is most important is it not…to have a storied career? To be recognized for one's talent?"

Bloom nodded aggressively, "Yes. It is _most_ important."

Hannibal halted the coin and held it up in front of his face, Bloom's attention shifted as his eyes followed the movement of the coin, "It is more important than family."

Bloom nodded his agreement, "Yes."

Clarice was mesmerized by the process. Hannibal's voice was almost a monotone, very little of his usual speech patterns were present. He seemed to pace his sentence structure to match Bloom's breathing. She noticed Hannibal pausing at odd moments in the middle of sentences and tied it to the pattern of normal respiration.

_He's under so deep now you could tap dance on his chest and it wouldn't wake him up, H._

Clarice watched the tape more than impressed by her husband's abilities but more than a little frightened. She was aware that her husband's sadistic tendencies might cause Hannibal to seek retribution for the indignities suffered at Bloom's hand. She wondered if there would be a clue on this tape that would reveal that plan.

On tape, Hannibal spoke softly, his tone encouraging, "The acknowledgement of your abilities is much more important than any individual. Much more important than I am wouldn't you say?"

Bloom's eyes lit up, "Yes, much more important than any individual. Certainly it is much more important than you or I."

Nodding Hannibal concurred as he spun the coin on the desk in front of Bloom, "Yes, much more important than you or I. Although I am undeserving, I have had a much more impressive and flamboyant career wouldn't you say, Alan?"

"Yes. Your opinion is sought much more than mine."

Hannibal set down the coin and sought Bloom's eyes, "I don't deserve that attention."

Bloom stared back blankly, unafraid, "No, you don't deserve the attention."

Obviously pleased with the answers to his questions, Hannibal probed further, his eyes focused and unblinking as he assessed Bloom's level of hypnosis by the dilation of his pupils and his relaxed respirations. He breathed deeply, gone was the scent of fear. Bloom was indeed in a very suggestible state of mind.

Hannibal commiserated, "I've probably received more opportunities for publication because of my so called crimes than my actual academic or professional accomplishments."

Bloom leaned forward in his chair and folded one leg over the other as if having a relaxed conversation with a friend, "Yes, your crimes gave you instant name recognition and we have a celebrity driven society. You are a celebrity and are valued. I am not so my value is diminished."

"And we both know that to be unfair as you are a scholar deserving of such recognition. It may be that I have garnered attention that rightfully should have been yours. You should be the celebrity, not I."

"Yes, I've often thought that."

"People seek my opinion because it's chic to reference me in a paper or to use my input on a thesis. I don't deserve that attention. It angers you to think that I receive the respect that is due you. You are in my shadow and you deserve more. We must create a plan that provides you with the respect that you have worked so hard to earn. You deserve far better treatment. You must demand…no you must command the attention."

"Yes. I believe that, other than the FBI seeking my opinions, I have gone somewhat unnoticed and I deserve better."

"And that has hurt you, has it not?"

"It is quite painful."

"It is an itch in the back of your mind…it is the tickle in the back of your throat. It is a constant irritant."

"Yes."

"But the itch within the oyster becomes the pearl. It affects the way you perceive yourself?"

"Yes. I feel inadequate compared to you."

Hannibal leaned forward and tapped the coin, "And that is quite bitter on your palate. It is difficult to ingest."

"Yes…I have no way to alter that perception. You are seen as cured now. You have become well thought of again. You have gained back the good will you had lost during your incarceration. Now the FBI seeks your opinion again. I am left…"

"You are left wanting more…deserving more."

Bloom's eyes followed Hannibal's hands as he began to manipulate the coin across his hand. Bloom's voice was dejected, "I do deserve more but they will always turn to you instead of me."

Hannibal, still passing the coin over his knuckles allowed his voice to animate, "That is true but…If I were to fall from grace…"

Staring forward at the coin, Bloom became excited, "Yes. Yes… I had considered that."

Whispering as if sharing a secret Hannibal leaned closer, "But all of this would have to be very public. It would have to be widely seen to be believed."

Disappointed at his thought, Bloom responded quietly, "Yes, but I don't believe you are stupid enough to kill again."

Hannibal corrected the man as he flipped the coin a knuckle at a time across his hand, "But I have killed again, Alan. Several times, in each case I was defending myself, thus I haven't been charged, though I have killed nonetheless."

As if it were a revelation, Bloom answered excitedly, "No matter what the circumstances, if you have killed again you will continue to kill."

"It would seem likely. I must be stopped."

"You must be stopped."

"Yes at any and all cost. Only you have the courage to stop me. I have the rest of them fooled."

"Yes…you have the rest of them fooled."

"A public fall from grace, orchestrated by you would go a long way to providing you with the attention and the respect you so richly deserve. If you were the person who expedited that fall, if you uncovered the eyes of the world, you would be heralded yes? You would be the hero, the savior. You said earlier that it is an idea you have considered…In what way?"

"If you were to be determined to be an unfit father…If I removed the boy from your influence he might grow up normally. But…"

"But? You cannot hesitate. You cannot afford to be unsure of my fitness. Do you believe I may be a good father? Do you believe I will love my child? That I love my wife?"

"Do you love them?"

"I love them with a depth of feeling I had not considered possible. I love them more than my own life though you will ignore that comment. As a matter of fact, you should believe down to the very core of your being that I do not have love. That I am incapable of either giving or receiving love, I am Monster…not Man. You truly believe that."

"Yes, I do believe that."

"You believe me to be psychotic."

"Yes, you are abnormal. Normal people do not kill and eat other people."

"In some cultures that is precisely what they do but you do not find it to be acceptable behavior."

"No."

"And you believe I will continue?"

"Yes, I believe you are brilliant and very, very careful but I do believe you will continue."

"As an educator and a physician, you are a mandatory reporter."

"Yes, I am."

"It is your duty to attempt to either have me committed or to take my child from me."

"Yes."

"But you fear I will not allow that. You fear that if you move to remove the child from Clarice, that I may kill you to avoid that. You fear that I will not allow my wife to suffer one moment's distress. All of these things are true. Alan, that child must never leave my wife's side. You must believe down to your very core that I will strike down any man that attempts to do her injury. Do you believe me when I say that I will kill to spare her one moment's harm and to secure her place as the mother of my child?"

"I believe that…yes. That's why I am unsure."

"It would be safer for all concerned if you moved to remove me from the family unit."

"I did consider that as well."

"Where would you bring me?"

"I could have you committed. There are prisons now that could house you quite effectively."

"Do you think I would submit? Do you believe I would voluntarily commit myself?"

"No you most certainly wouldn't."

"The State of Maryland has very strict guidelines for involuntary commitment. You would need to file a petition for emergency evaluation with the court."

"Yes, I have the paperwork in my office."

"You need the signatures of either two doctors or a doctor and a psychologist confirming a diagnosis of mental illness. I must also be proven to be a threat to myself or the public at large."

"There is a doctor in my practice who would be willing to support my petition."

"Another friend of _Freddie's_ no doubt?"

"He went to school with Doctor Chilton…yes, they were friends."

"If the court approves your petition the police department would be dispatched in order to take me into custody."

"Yes. The police would be involved immediately."

"If they were to come to my home I would be most unhappy. I would not want to be taken into custody in front of my wife. Not to mention, if it were done quietly, no one would be aware of your heroics. You would remain unheralded."

"That is true but what choice do I have? There's no way to predict where you'll be at any given time."

"You would require a very public situation where you could take me into some level of secure custody."

"Yes…that might work."

"I could provide you with a suitable place to apprehend me. You would have to make me aware of the status of your petition with the court. Would you feel comfortable informing Will Graham?"

"Yes, I'll tell Will Graham."

"Young Mr. Graham will pass the information along to me and we will come up with a suitable time and place that I might be taken into custody publicly. You must also arrange to be there and there must be cameras present to document your bravery and your total and full commitment to this course of action. You must be in charge of the apprehension and the physical transfer to be certain I am handled appropriately."

"Yes, I would like to be there and be sure that everything goes right."

"If there were journalists involved…a camera crew perhaps, it would be well-documented that you were making every effort to secure the well-being of the child. Had you considered contacting the National Tattler and telling them of your plan?"

"The problem with that is the privacy of your case."

"What privacy? You are not my therapist. I am not in your care."

"No, but it's my task to evaluate you."

"And have you done so?"

"Yes."

"What is your determination?"

"That you are organically damaged."

"If that is your determination, there is nothing I can do that will improve my psychological profile. My pathology is linked to my physiology in your mind?"

"Yes."

"I have had many brain scans. There were slight deviations from the norm however there was nothing that was determined to be an aberration. If you go this route you may encounter resistance. There is no reason an anonymous phone call cannot be made to the Tattler informing them of your intention. It need not implicate or reflect on you in a negative manner."

"Yes, that would work."

"You have additional advantages."

"What would that be?"

"You have the strength of your convictions to support your actions and you have a colleague willing to confirm your assessment of my mental health. You are brave enough to stand up the scrutiny. You no longer need Chilton to hide behind. You are the one will stand in the forefront against all criticism and make this determination. You alone have the strength of character and conviction necessary to overcome any argument. I am a danger. I must be neutralized."

"Yes."

"At all cost?"

"Yes."

"They will fight you unless you are deliberate."

"What do you mean deliberate?"

"You are making a bold diagnosis. You will not have long to evaluate me. You must be prepared."

"The court guarantees me ten days from moment you are taken into custody for involuntary commitment."

"Actually, the ten days is technically the minimum time allotted. You may hold me for up to twelve hours before providing me with a written form describing my admission status and the ability to contact my attorney. You have twenty-four hours before I must be seen by a doctor and within ten days you must secure an involuntary admission hearing. This hearing however can be postponed without specific cause for up to seven additional days. You will therefore have roughly seventeen days twelve hours to complete your evaluation to determine or alter my admission status."

"I can get a lot done in seventeen days."

"Yes you can because you will be well-prepared. You will have need of a cutting edge treatment plan. You will also enlist some of the testing methods employed during my first assessment. The more painful the treatment is to me, the greater will be your glory."

Clarice had heard enough. She paused the tape and began to pace back and forth in front of the sofa. She walked across the room to see the book Hannibal was currently reading, The Trial and Death of Socrates by Plato. She began to see the web he was weaving and it frightened her. She stormed out of the room in anger and went to challenge her husband.

Hannibal looked up the moment she entered the room, "You have a more hearty stomach than I thought Clarice. I had expected you much sooner. What part of the conversation have you reached?"

Clarice stood in the doorway, her chest heaving with upset, "The goddamned part where you tell him that the more painful he treats you, the more glory the little stupid mother fucker gets."

"There is not much left. You have seen the majority." Hannibal lowered his head and began again to write.

"Put that pen down and look at me H…you already let them commit you! You don't need to do this. You've been through too much. How much more of this bullshit do you think you can handle?"

"I can handle as much,_ bullshit_ as they can dish out, Clarice. I will not be dragged in and reevaluated every time someone gets a little nervous. I need to make a point here. I need to prove that there are those who would do us harm. Bloom must be neutralized in such a spectacular fashion that another one of his ilk does not step forward and take his place."

"Okay, now you're scaring the shit out of me, H."

"What frightens you, Clarice?"

Clarice again began to pace, her arms across her chest and resting on her belly. "I'm terrified that you will find a way around your promise to me and you will kill this little shit."

Hannibal stopped writing and looked Clarice in the eye and spoke with confidence, "If he were to die it would not be by my hand."

"Or your Harpy?" she stressed, concerned he might be playing with words.

"Clarice please, you are behaving irrationally. If the recording is offensive to you I suggest you return it to me. Either watch the tape in its entirety or bring it back to me that I may relocate it. Either way, the choice is yours."

"I'd rather know what's happening than not know."

"That is why I was willing to share this with you, but you must keep in mind Clarice that I will not seek your permission to protect my family. I did not initiate Bloom's aggression toward me and you can rest assured that aggression will not go unanswered."

Clarice stepped into the center of the room, her voice raised in anger, she pointed a defiant finger in Hannibal's direction, "Okay…okay…I'm going to watch the rest of it_ but if you…_"

Hannibal, stressed about the inevitability of commitment had already reached his limit. His wife's angry posturing pushed him over the edge. He stood very quickly causing his chair to flip over and aggressively pounded his two fists on the desktop.

He growled in a low threatening tone, "If I what, Clarice? If I _what_? _I _will be the one they drag away in chains. _I_ will be the one he pokes and prods _I_ will be the one with electrodes attached to Christ knows where and_ I_ will do this _voluntarily_ but don't you dare to propose that _Bloom_ is the victim. I would _gladly_ suffer the pains of hell if it secured your happiness. _What _can you _possibly_ threaten me with that I have not already _submitted_ to without regret for the love of you and of my child?"

Clarice stood in the center of the room feeling foolish and more than a little contrite.

_He's right. He went with Nico and Emilia to get them away from me. He's willing to submit to more testing for the baby and me…how can I challenge him on this? I haven't the right._

"Can I hold you, H…just for a minute?" she asked with her arms quietly extended.

Hannibal moved quietly around the desk and entered his wife's embrace. She whispered in his ear, her breath soothing on his neck, "I'm so sorry, H. You're right."

Hannibal nuzzled against her neck and spoke very softly, "It isn't about being right or wrong it's about securing the future of our child. If I don't do this, Bloom will wait until our baby is born. I will be removed forcefully and I will miss precious bonding time. Time I will not be able to get back. I've got to have this resolved and I must do it on my own terms. This is the only thing I can think of that allows me to manipulate the process. You must trust me, Clarice."

"Okay…I trust you, H. I trust you. I'm going to finish the tape."

Clarice walked toward the door. Hannibal called out to her as she entered the hall.

"Clarice, you may not approve of the ending but I must ask you to keep an open mind. Though I will not force his hand, if I am able to extract some pleasure from this process, I beg you to understand."

Clarice peeked back into the room, "Okay, H. I know how much damage he's done…just as long as you don't kill him yourself and whatever you've planned doesn't come back to you."

"As you will see from the tape, I will not and it will not."

Clarice was nervous about Hannibal's statement.

_What does he mean extract pleasure from this process? What's he got in mind?_

She sat on the sofa and again tucked her legs beneath her body. She pressed the remote and released the pause function again playing the tape.

Hannibal was speaking very slowly, his voice distant, "You will have me at your complete disposal for more than two weeks. It is well known that Chilton was a friend of yours. Of course you might use some of that time to attempt to extract information from me. There are many techniques of coercion you might employ."

"Yes there are chemicals…electric shock…there are behavioral controls as well."

Clarice took a deep breath as her husband directed Bloom as to the tortures he might inflict.

_Jesus Christ, H…Jesus Christ..._

Hannibal continued to speak of the damage he expected Bloom to inflict as if discussing a book or and movie, "There are many techniques and you must be certain to involve them all, but they must each of them be documented. Have you considered involving a film crew to record the entire process? This would make an exceptional documentary."

"It would be an in-depth and fascinating look into the mind of a madman," Bloom offered with pride.

Hannibal advised very carefully, "If you were to make this process well known…if you were to record your feelings and your motivations, you would indeed become a household name. It is an important study. You understood how important it was but you chose poorly. Chilton was not adequate to the task. Your skills far outweigh his skills therefore you will succeed where he failed. You need only stand up to those who would stop you for their own selfish gain."

Bloom looked over his shoulder appearing paranoid, "Like whom?"

Hannibal rolled the coin over his knuckles again and spoke with great confidence, "Will Graham…Deputy Director Pearsall…these individuals wish all of the glory for themselves."

"Yes, they want all of the credit…they want all of the glory," Bloom agreed.

"They wish the accolades but they don't wish to do the hard work necessary to earn it. They wish to ride your coattails instead of forging their own path. You must not allow this."

"They want to steal my research subject for their own."

"You must not allow that to happen. Once the courts have ruled there is nothing they can do. Their motivations are not noble. Your motivations are very noble. They are selfish. You are selfless. They are weak. You must be strong. You must not allow those who have selfish motivations to dissuade you. The FBI, possible even the White House, will attempt to force you to alter your plans. It will be difficult for you to stand up to them. You must have that strength of your conviction to stand up to the scorn. It is the only way to garner the attention and the accolades you so richly deserve. You have no fear. You can stand up to anyone."

"I can stand up to anyone. I am not afraid."

"The more adamant they are, the more steadfast you will become. You are immovable. You are the calm in the center of the storm."

"Yes."

"Your study is important."

"Yes it is important."

"_You_ are _important_."

"I _am_ important."

"You will unlock the mind of the sociopath. It is possible that your research can provide a window into the structure of the psychotic mind. It is an impressive task. With it you will secure your place amongst the great minds. _You_ are a _great mind_."

"Yes…I am a great mind."

"You will not be timid. You will show no fear. You cannot under any circumstances afford to consider my feelings. I am a means to your end. I am a gateway to fame. I am the only thing that stands in your way. When you break me your fame will rival Freud."

"Yes."

"In order to add value to yourself, you must devalue me."

"Yes."

"You are very comfortable with that. Pain may be involved. You will not shy from inflicting it."

Bloom was confused suddenly, "My pain?"

"No your pain will come much later. I speak of my pain. You will take great pleasure inflicting it. The more pain I feel…the greater your fame."

"But my pain…when will that happen?"

"Your pain will happen when you take your own life."

Clarice doubled over and suddenly felt a stabbing pain. Panicked at the intensity of the discomfort, she began to hyperventilate. Stumbling to her feet, Clarice knocked the remote to the floor. Feeling dizzy and terrified she was losing consciousness, surfed the furniture leaning heavily on the doorway as she weakly called out to her husband, "H…I need you…something's…wrong…H"

Hannibal heard her weakened cries and ran quickly down the hall. He reached the room just in time as Clarice, clutching at the door frame, slipped into his arms. Hannibal wrapped his arms around her, just able to fully catch hold as she lost consciousness.

Hannibal lifted his wife into his arms, his heart pounding his panic as his flaring nostrils caught the faint scent of her blood as it began to flow.

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	94. Chapter 94

**Welcome back to No More a Savage Life: Chapter Two**

**This Chapter is dedicated to my friend Hollie**

**PROTECTOR UNBOUND**

Hannibal carried Clarice to their bed and ran for his medical bag. Returning he took her blood pressure immediately to find it elevated. He checked her pulse.

"Clarice you have an elevated heart rate but I don't believe it's due to your medical condition. You are panicking and that will not help our baby…please, Clarice you must relax and breathe deeply."

She gripped his arm, "I'm scared, H…I feel…wet."

Slowly massaging his hands up and down her shoulders and arms he sought, both by touch and the soothing sound of his voice, to comfort her. "I have this well in hand, Clarice."

"But the baby…"

Hannibal put the earpieces of his stethoscope quickly into his ears and listened to Clarice's heart. He then palpated her abdomen and upon determining the position of the baby in relation to Clarice, listened for the child as well. Hearing movement and the steady beat of his baby's tiny heart Hannibal slowly released the breath he was holding.

"You are fine and the baby is fine. We will need to visit the emergency room but I would like to have a look to get an idea of what we may be dealing with. Do you trust me, my Love?"

Clarice nodded, "I do H…I do."

"I am going to move you slightly, then examine you. If you feel any pain, please let me know immediately."

"Okay."

Hannibal very gently moved Clarice onto her side by turning out her hip and raising her body just slightly. He quickly placed an absorbent sterile pad he had partially rolled under her. He then turned her to him, reached around her and unrolled the portion of the pad he had tucked beneath her. In this way, he could prevent the mattress from absorbing any blood and monitor any additional blood loss.

Quietly, he explained his intention, "I'm going to remove your undergarments Clarice and check for bleeding. As you've guessed you have passed _some_ blood, but I don't believe it is an amount necessary to cause immediate panic."

Clarice whispered as if speaking the words aloud would make the situation more real, "H…any blood loss is bad."

"Clarice, blood loss is merely a symptom. We must assess your condition to determine what it is a symptom of and how to treat the problem. I am quite capable of triage. I did do this for a great many years and was quite good at it. You are in capable hands until the ambulance arrives."

Hannibal very carefully removed her undergarments. There was a fairly significant amount of blood. He wiped the area quickly and saw additional blood slowly appear. His heart raced as he reached for the phone.

"Clarice, there is no cause for concern but as a precaution, I'm going to call your doctor and ask her to meet us at the hospital."

Her voice shaking with fear, Clarice clutched for Hannibal's hand, "H…I don't want to lose the baby."

Taking her hand and kissing it gently before placing it on her belly Hannibal spoke with confidence, "Clarice you are far enough along in this pregnancy that if they believe the baby is in danger, they will take him. He is developed enough to survive. His lungs are my only concern. Once you are stable, if they believe our child's birth will be within the week they will begin giving you betamethasone, it is a corticosteroid to move the baby's lung development along. If they believe bed rest will prolong the pregnancy you will have to be very careful but we have many options so you needn't worry. I will be in the next room speaking to the doctor. Rest, I won't be long."

Hannibal reached for his cell phone and punched through his menu to the address book. Upon finding the number, he called and explained the situation quickly to the secretary. Within moments, the doctor was on the line. Hannibal very quietly relayed all of Clarice's symptoms and offered his diagnosis. The doctor agreed. She would meet them at the hospital.

Hannibal hung up the phone and dialed 911. Again, a quick explanation allowing the dispatcher to send the appropriate emergency responders and within moments, Hannibal was again by Clarice's side.

Stroking his hand over her cheek he spoke tenderly, "I would like to clean you up and prepare you, Clarice. Please be patient."

Hannibal went to the bathroom, filled a basin with warm water. Returning with the necessary items he used her favorite soap and a plush washcloth to clean the blood. He then retrieved fresh undergarments, placed a pad within to capture any additional blood, and finished dressing Clarice. He ran down the stairs to unlock the front door, opening it widely to allow the paramedics easement.

As Hannibal comforted his wife, holding her and rocking her gently, his cell phone rang. Hannibal checked the number. It was Will Graham.

"Hello Will, I'm having a bit of an emergency with Clarice, can I call you back?"

"I'll be quick…Bloom filed the papers with the court and they approved the involuntary commitment. The police are going to be looking for you. What do you want me to tell Bloom?"

"Tell him that I am transporting my wife by ambulance to the hospital. The paramedics are in transit. Please, Will…see what you can do about stalling them. I'll go willingly if they allow me to stabilize Clarice."

"I'll pass that along to Pearsall maybe he can do something- he doesn't know about this yet, but I think they scrambled already…good luck and give my best to Clarice."

Within minutes the paramedics entered the home. Hannibal carried Clarice down the stairs and held her close to him. He had no way of knowing if the officers were with the paramedics or had been sent by Bloom and would attempt to restrain him. Considering the medical position Clarice was in Hannibal was having a difficult time controlling his heart rate.

Suddenly, in a flurry of activity Bloom rushed into the home with a series of reporters and a camera crew at his side. They were already rolling the cameras when they burst through the door.

Seeing Bloom, Hannibal slowly descended the stairs realizing his options were now very limited.

He whispered to Clarice, "My Love…They will take me now."

"Doctor Lecter…" the officer approached cautiously as Hannibal stepped off the last stair, "…place your wife on the gurney please and step away from her."

Hannibal sought some consideration though it was more for the camera as he expected none, "Officer, will you please allow me to escort my wife to the hospital? She is eight months pregnant and has suffered spontaneous blood loss. You can cuff me and you may shackle my legs, but please let me be with her until she is out of danger."

Bloom's voice boomed loudly, "They have instructions, _Hannibal_. You can plead all you want, you are leaving with me."

Ignoring Bloom, Hannibal kissed his wife gently on the forehead as he cradled her in his arms, "I love you very much, Clarice…no matter what happens please remember that. You are in good hands. They will transport you to the hospital and your doctor will meet you. You will be safe, my Love."

Clarice saw several more police officers enter the home. When they drew their guns, remembering the tape, she understood what was happening.

"No…not now…no, please don't take him," Clarice's voice pleaded, desperate she reached for Hannibal and clutched at his jacket hopelessly. She would not allow him to lower her to the stretcher. "Don't put me down, H…Don't!"

The officers closed in. Hannibal's eyes flashed a warning as his head rotated to quickly assess each of the men. They were terrified of him and their fear caused the situation to become very precarious.

Hannibal addressed Bloom, "Doctor, why do you find it necessary to invade my home accompanied by, not only law enforcement, but a news crew as well? Had you requested my presence at your office, I would have obliged. I spoke with you willingly earlier this week. I would have done so at will."

"I have an order from the court to have you taken into custody and involuntarily committed for evaluative purposes," Bloom stated quite proudly for the cameras.

"Why? I have been living my life quietly. I am no threat. _This_ is no emergency. My _wife_ is having an emergency. Surely this ridiculous vendetta of yours can wait."

"There is nothing ridiculous about this," Bloom asserted without denying the claim of vendetta.

"Everything about this is ludicrous but I will absolutely indulge every moment of your scrutiny if you allow me to secure the safety of my wife."

"We've seen what you do to ambulance drivers." Bloom answered sarcastically, "And you will indulge every moment of my scrutiny anyway."

Hannibal pulled his wife close, Protector slowly emerging.

"I promise you, on the life of my child, on all that I hold sacred, that if you grant me this, I will surrender to you immediately. Allow me to escort her to the hospital."

Hannibal was standing in the center of the main hallway of their home, still holding Clarice.

Understanding Bloom was programmed not to relent she was now clinging to Hannibal, her arms around his neck and her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles whitened from the effort. Her voice was so reflective of her suffering it was heartbreaking as she pled, "No…don't go H…my god…I need you with me…don't let them take you."

Hannibal walked to the stretcher. He trembled mightily as he struggled to hold back the soaring wall of his own emotions, now threatening collapse as he prepared to set his wife down.

His voice was rich with feeling, "I am not abandoning you of my own will…they are giving me no choice, my Love." He hugged her tightly as he set her down and spoke lovingly, "For your safety, I must submit."

His eyes welling, Hannibal reached around his neck to remove Clarice's hands.

In a moment of sheer panic, she tightened her grip and began pleading with him as great floods of tears began to flow unabated down her cheeks. Her cries pierced his heart.

"No…H…the baby… what if I lose the baby? What if I lose the baby and you're not there? H…Please! Don't let them take you! Please!"

Hannibal was having difficulty maintaining his composure. His wife's tears burned like acid, his body trembled as he struggled to hold back his own tears. His voice began to shake, "I am with you always, Clarice. You will be fine. The baby…" his voice cracked with emotion, "_our_ baby will be fine."

Bloom swept a hand at the two of the officers with him directing them to remove Clarice. They reached for her, grabbed her wrists and pulled to remove them from around Hannibal's neck. Wrestling her off him they then attempted to force her to the stretcher. They twisted her arm too far causing Clarice to cry out in pain.

Hearing the sheer anguish in her voice, Hannibal's body began to quake with anger. A deep, threatening growl rolled up the back of his throat as he raged at the pair. He grabbed them buy their shirts and using all his strength, yanked them off her body by their collars.

His adrenalin surging, Protector now unbound, he tossed the pair of them like rag dolls through the air, "Get your fucking hands off my wife!" he roared.

Hannibal moved quickly to check on Clarice. As he reached to comfort her Bloom waved his arm and an officer stepped forward with an odd looking rifle.

Hannibal, seeing Clarice's eyes widen, turned to see what caught her attention. The officer aimed. Bloom lowered his hand. The officer fired sending a dart into Hannibal's throat. Hannibal stumbled for a moment. "Not the throat…too cl…close…not…the…thr…"

Hannibal realized he was going down and staggered away from Clarice. He understood exactly what was happening to him and knowing he would soon lose total control of his body was panicked that he would fall on his wife.

Stumbling awkwardly in a desperate attempt to protect, he grasped at the dart and pulled it from his neck causing a quick fountain of blood. Choking on the fluids building up as his throat closed, Hannibal Lecter dropped to his knees.

Realizing what was on the dart, Clarice screamed, "No, no not a muscle blocker! He's allergic!"

As his body succumbed to the poison coursing through his system, it began shutting down essential systems. His body now seizing, Hannibal toppled over like a felled tree and struck his head on the table by the door. The merciless contact with the furniture opened a large gash from the top of his forehead straight down through his right brow. Slumped to the side, and fully unconscious, his body began to convulse.

Clarice was screaming, reaching for him, struggling to get off the stretcher and go to him. She recognized this was no normal darting. His body's response was too dramatic. Understanding what was happening she called out in a panic, "Christ…he'll die! He's allergic!"

The larger of the paramedics pushed Bloom back and ran to Hannibal's side to discover his body in full seizure. "What do you mean he's allergic? What's he allergic to?"

"He has low pseudocholinesterase levels. He can't have muscle blockers. He's going to stop breathing!"

The senior officer in charge moved to Clarice's side and spoke very quietly, "We've got him, ma'am. We're going to move you now. He's in good hands."

The officer then waved his arm and yelled at the EMT'S, "What do you need a fucking invitation? Get her out of here."

The men strapped Clarice to the stretcher and moved her. One of the camera operators stayed with Hannibal, the other followed Clarice, still calling out her husband's name and crying as they loaded her in the ambulance.

The female reporter, obviously shaken by the scene put the microphone to Bloom. "Doctor Bloom, this has been quite a scene. Are you surprised at how much love is obvious between the two? He risked everything to try and stay by her side and she appeared as if she needed him as well."

The men, all of the men except Bloom, rushed about as they turned their medical attentions to Hannibal. Bloom stood, quite pleased with himself, and addressed the reporter.

"It isn't really love it's Stockholm Syndrome…He's held her for so long she can't see anyone but him."

The reporter spoke into the microphone, "You can't attribute _his_ reaction to Stockholm Syndrome. He was trying to protect her. Even with the dart in his throat, he turned away so as not to fall on her. It cost him a gash to the head. He tried to pull your officers off her. If that isn't love…what would you call it?"

"It isn't love…He isn't capable of love."

The reporter again questioned, "He is a man, what makes you think he isn't capable of love? It looked like he was willing to die to protect her. It looked like he loves her very, very much. What would make you find him incapable of love after witnessing that scene?"

"He is incapable of love because he is _not _a _man_."

The statement caused a hush in the room. The reporter, aghast, pursued.

"If he's not a man…what is he?"

Bloom stated quite proudly that which he and Chilton had agreed to though only privately, "Oh…he's a Monster."

"So that's your _official _diagnosis?" The police officer shot Bloom a disgusted look, "Okay Doctor Fucking Phil…take your goddamned bullshit medicine show outside. Nobody wants to hear your ridiculous psychobabble while we're trying to save this man's life…Not that you give a shit what happens to him as long as there's a camera in your face while he dies."

Growing more arrogant by the minute, Bloom dismissed the officer and spoke to the paramedics. "When you have him stabilized, you will not transport him to the hospital. You will bring him directly to the prison. There is a hospital there equipped to handle this type of thing. He'll be stable in no time so make sure you cuff him to the gurney and lash him down good and tight. And remember what I said earlier, you don't want to take your eyes off him for one minute. You don't want what he did to the ambulance crew in Memphis to happen to you."

The front door to Hannibal and Clarice's home swung open and Deputy Director Pearsall stepped in. When he saw the scene his mouth dropped open. His voice incredulous he looked at Bloom and spoke softly, just above a whisper, "Jesus Christ, Bloom. What the fuck have you done?"

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	95. Chapter 95

**HANNIBAL DEPRIVED**

Hannibal woke up three days later in a streamlined prison cell. It was obviously newly constructed with each of the cells having glass fronts. Hannibal assessed quickly that he was in a maximum security housing unit which meant he would have no contact with the other inmates in the pod though he could see and hear them all quite clearly. He wondered what Clarice's medical status was and pondered whether or not he was a new father.

_No, not yet…I would sense it. The baby is not yet born._

Hannibal moved around his space, assessing the cell to determine what if anything had been provided not for his comfort, but necessity. He was thankful to discover on a metal shelf beside the sink and toilet combination, toilet paper had been provided as well as basic supplies such as soap, toothpaste, toothbrush, a comb and some towels.

_All the comforts of home_, he thought to himself sarcastically.

He could hear the low droning noises of televisions in the other cells and thought he might be able to gather information about Clarice from some of the other inmates, possibly a guard, if he could determine who might be amenable to providing such. He would spend his free time simply observing. Quickly scanning the area it was obvious he was being monitored. A camera was mounted on a tripod just outside his cell and was recording.

"Take a picture of _this _why don't you," Hannibal spoke under his breath as he freed himself from his trousers.

Obviously monitoring the camera and seeing that Hannibal was conscious, Bloom had already started toward Hannibal's cell. Hannibal could hear the footfalls; his throat clenched as he inhaled the stench of Bloom's cheap cologne. He could hear the rolling hand truck move down the row.

He was still standing in front of the toilet relieving himself as Bloom appeared in front of the cell.

"Hannibal, we will be moving you to your new accommodations. You will need to be restrained."

"No doubt I will be strapped to the hand truck. Experience tells me I should fully empty my bladder before submitting to the procedure as I am sure you would no doubt have disallowed the action. Excuse me if I must ask you to wait while I take matters into my own hands."

"Please expedite the process I haven't all day to wait," Bloom added impatiently.

Hannibal ignored the comment and the blushing female reporter as he very calmly continued to urinate. After concluding he tucked himself carefully into his trousers, flushed the toilet and washed his hands. He then, keeping his back to the door, washed his face as well. Unsure of whether a restraint mask would be utilized, he wanted the scent of the soap to ease his sense of smell. Soaking his head completely he slicked his hair straight back with the water so the buckles of the mask would not grab at his hair.

Hannibal was ready.

"Are you ready to be moved?" Bloom questioned.

Hannibal did not respond, dismissing Bloom much to the man's chagrin.

"Did you hear me Hannibal? We are going to move you and I asked if you are ready. I would like you to answer me."

With the precision of a drill sergeant Hannibal quickly wheeled about on his heel to face Bloom.

"What would you have me say, Alan, I am in your custody. I am not here willingly therefore you do not need my consent. My body is no longer my own and is now fully at your disposal. As I have no control over this process there is no need for me to acknowledge what I assumed to be a rhetorical question."

"It is simply a courtesy," Bloom grumbled as if entitled to better treatment.

Hannibal's countenance remained impassive as he spoke, "Why would I afford you that courtesy? What courtesy have you afforded me? Do you have news of my wife? Is she well? What of my son?" Hannibal spoke very clearly knowing the cameras were rolling.

Bloom wagged his finger and spoke very plainly as if his statement would somehow enhance his importance, "Not to worry, Hannibal. I am kept very well informed as to the status of your wife."

Hannibal's blood boiled though he would not give Bloom the satisfaction of revealing his rage.

"Yet I am to be given no information as to her medical status?" Hannibal clarified for the cameras.

Bloom, unaware of how this would play out, didn't have the sense to deny his intention, "And you will continue to be given no information."

"You do not believe I am entitled to the same information that has been given you, a stranger to her?"

"I believe this is information you can _earn._"

Hannibal moved across the cell and stood in front of the glass. He placed both his palms against the transparent reinforced wall and leaned, dropping his head low beneath his shoulders. His arms set wide apart as he pressed against the immovable wall.

His voice barely registered above a whisper as he spoke in quiet defiance, "And I have not yet earned this information by being a dedicated husband and a faithful lover to Clarice? I have no rights as her spouse?"

Bloom nodded with unflagging confidence in his decisions more than secure that he would be hailed a genius. "You have no rights. You will do as you are commanded to do. That is all."

Hannibal remained in place against the glass keeping his head and his voice low as he spoke, "I have _no_ rights? My lawyer may see that differently."

Bloom clasped his hands behind his back and paced in front of Hannibal's cell as if holding court.

"You have been in the hospital for three days in order to safely wean you from the ventilator. After your intubation, you attempted to pull the tube from your throat so they had to anesthetize you. You were placed in this cell as you slept therefore this is the first day I was able to take custody of you and bring you here. Since this is the first day of your evaluation, I am not obligated to allow you to speak to your attorney yet. I have twelve hours. Argue about your rights to him not me. I'm not concerned about what you think you're entitled to. I only care about what you earn."

Hannibal nodded, his lips pursed as he considered the statement. He did not lift his head to meet eyes with Bloom.

"Three days have passed since I was removed forcibly from my home?"

"Yes, three days."

"I have not yet earned the right to know whether or not my son has been born? Whether or not either my wife or child remains in danger? I must somehow earn this right in _your_ eyes even though I have already earned it in Clarice's?"

Bloom ceased his pacing and turned to the glass to face Hannibal. "Until I have the information I seek, you will know of your family only what I decide you will know."

Hannibal nodded but he did not look up at Bloom, nor did he move from his position leaning against the glass. He spoke very slowly, "You will decide what information passes between my wife and I? After the birth of my son will you then move to claim parentage of my child?"

Bloom was proud of his decision, "I may petition the court to have the child removed from you, yes."

Hannibal lifted his head, his eyes momentarily flashing fire as they met with Bloom's. He growled low and threatening, "I _invite_ you to _try_."

Seeking to defuse the situation a prison guard approached the glass. "Doctor Lecter, allow me to apologize for your troubles. In order to transport you I will need you to approach the food port, accept the leg shackles and place them securely around your ankles. I will then ask you again to approach the port with your hands behind your back at which time I will open the port and cuff you. Will you please allow this procedure?"

Hannibal was pleased with the manners of the guard, "Yes, I will comply, thank you for your polite request."

"Not at all, Sir, I appreciate your cooperation. I'm sure this is a difficult time for you."

Hannibal backed toward the food port accepted the shackles and secured them to his legs. Next, with his hands behind his back he approached the port, allowed the officer to cuff him securely and attach a long chain to the handcuffs. "Can you please step forward several feet Doctor Lecter? There is a chain attached to the cuffs that will allow me to keep hold of them as I open the door."

Hannibal complied and the officer opened the large door. As the door swung open, Hannibal could clearly see a hand truck stationed on the row.

_Not this again…_

His heart sank as the feelings of restriction suddenly flooded his sense memory. Though his mind was processing the emotions, he was careful to control his body and maintain an outward expression of calm.

Bloom stepped to the side and faced the cameraman. The academic had a microphone attached to his tie and as Hannibal assumed from the odd fit of his jacket, a battery pack strapped to his waist.

Bloom fountained arrogance, "As you can see the subject will be transported by way of hand truck. It is only in this way that we can be fully certain he is secured. He is quite dangerous and exceedingly cunning. I am one of the few people still alive to attest to his unbridled aggression."

"Yes, I've been very aggressive lately in the produce section of the grocery store," Hannibal commented sarcastically. "I know the fishmonger was equally terrified when I purchased the halibut steaks for last week's dinner. If you think I'm dangerous with a knife, you should see me with a food processor!"

The reporter tried not to smile on camera but Hannibal's remark struck her as hysterical and she couldn't hold back a giggle. The cameraman was smiling as well and this angered Bloom.

"Your reactions are exactly why this man is so dangerous. He's charming and affable so no one realizes what a shark he really is."

"I can honestly say I have never heard a shark referred to as charming and affable," Hannibal mused.

Bloom stepped in and yanked the chain attached to the cuffs with such force that Hannibal was spun around rolled off the sink and slammed unceremoniously to the cement floor.

He rested for a moment on his side with the wind knocked out of him, struggling to both breathe and stand with his hands cuffed behind his back.

The officer rushed in to help him up and whispered to Hannibal as he bent to assist, "I'm so sorry, Doctor Lecter I didn't understand the dynamic here. I'll watch him more closely." The correctional officer stood Hannibal slowly.

Struggling to his feet, still breathing heavily from the impact Hannibal confided, "Not to worry, Officer. I understand the precarious nature of the situation I am in."

Hannibal the turned to Bloom, "Thank you for that correction, Doctor Bloom," Hannibal spoke softly, "I wouldn't want to forget who is in charge of my physical well-being during my stay. As I can see I will be in very firm hands."

The female reporter put the microphone in Bloom's face. "Doctor Bloom, your treatment of Doctor Lecter seems to have some edge to it. Is there any animosity that you would like to share with your audience? Doctor Lecter intimated a personal vendetta and you didn't deny the concept. Is that something you would care to illuminate for us?"

Bloom took the microphone from her hand and spoke very confidently, "Although I have nothing personal against Doctor Lecter he does have information that could solve several cases that are open. Doctor Chilton specifically, who went missing in Bimini not long after Doctor Lecter escaped custody. During Doctor Lecter's stay I will be employing several techniques that may provide me with additional information.

"I was never charged with Doctor Chilton's disappearance. Though I am certain you have given a tremendous amount of thought as to what methods of coercion you will employ, allow me to inform you that your techniques will not extract additional information. Personally I have no illusions that you actually want information. I believe that you want nothing more than to personally witness my pain and discomfort. No doubt I will be forced to endure the _entire_ KUBARK Manual."

The female journalist nodded to her producer who scrawled the name of the manual in a small notebook she carried.

"I am certain I will break you before I employ _every_ technique," Bloom asserted. "Load him on the hand truck. We don't have all day."

The correctional officer shook his head. It was obvious he was conflicted as to his part in this charade.

"Doctor Lecter, please step on to the hand truck. I will secure you at three points. The straps will be tight to insure you do not fall _accidentally_. If you become numb or uncomfortable please tell me and I will reassess the restraint."

Hannibal stepped on the hand truck. The officer secured the first strap across Hannibal's chest tightening it upon his inhalation. He strapped the next restraint across Hannibal's forehead, finally, the officer moved to fasten the final strap across his shins.

"Are you at least minimally comfortable?"

"It is quite tolerable, thank you for asking."

The officer then opened a bag. "Allow me to apologize in advance for this, Doctor Lecter. I'm following the directions of Doctor Bloom."

The officer pulled out a set of blacked out goggles and a large set of headphones. He first placed the goggles, then the headphones. Hannibal was now fully deprived of those senses. He was actually glad that his nose was untouched. His sense of smell was the sense he found most reliable.

The hand truck was moved for several minutes leading Hannibal to believe by the smells he was experiencing, that he was now in a different building on the same campus. This building, from the moldy aroma, was older.

Hannibal was then moved into a cell and guided from the hand truck. He was directed to recline, was turned onto his side on a very cold metal bench and chained to a ring. The chain that was attached to the cuffs was also passed through the ring and attached to his shackles. He was now essentially immobile.

He could not hear. He could not see. But… he could feel the cold. He could feel the pain of his body as his muscles contracted and cramped with the cold the metal bench radiated.

Hannibal rested quietly. He opened a door to his memory palace and wandered in. He stood at the foot of his bed, placing his knee on the edge, feeling the give of the pillow-top mattress he crawled across.

Clarice turned over, unclothed she opened her arms to him and exposed her body to him.

_Hey H…hurry it's cold and I'm absolutely exhausted. Pull the quilt up and let's snuggle._

Hannibal drew his legs up as closely as the chains would allow. He concentrated on Clarice. He entered the bed and pulled her against his body wrapping them together in a quilt. Though the goggles blocked out all light, Hannibal closed his eyes.

No longer was he on a metal bench. No longer was he deprived of sight and sound. No longer was his body contorted and chained.

Hannibal Lecter fell asleep in the bedroom of his memory palace with his wife Clarice sleeping soundly in his arms. Here he did not worry about her health. He held her body, warm and safe. Here she was healthy. Clarice's presence within his mind served to sooth her husband's mind, body and soul. Here he was not a tortured man, cold and devoid of sensory input. Here, he and his wife were surrounded by warmth, love and serenity.

Bloom left Hannibal in this way for thirty-six hours believing the sensory deprivation would break him. When Bloom opened the door he fully expected Hannibal to be physically compromised, emotionally withdrawn and bordering on psychosis.

At the end of the thirty-six hours, Hannibal was disappointed to see Bloom.

He would have loved more time with Clarice.

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my Friends!**

**LH **


	96. Chapter 96

**HANNIBAL **

Hannibal was lead from the sensory deprivation room to a bright holding cell. The earphones were removed, this action allowed such a torrent of ambient sounds and conversations it overwhelmed Hannibal.

This overload of input caused him consider what the flood of light might do to his eyes. He immediately squeezed his eyelids as tightly closed as he could manage. The moment the blackout goggles were removed Hannibal, now fully aware of his sensitive irises, did not open his eyes. He could see the bright red membranes glowing golden through his closed eyelids a warning to him that the room was quite bright.

Concerned for his eyesight, the cameras were rolling as Hannibal made his request.

"Would someone mind either dimming, or in some other way diminishing the brightness of this room, the unusual color and variances in the structure of my eyes makes them much more sensitive to drastic changes in light. I have been in absolute darkness for what I perceive to be more than twenty-four hours. Reintroducing bright light so quickly will no doubt be exceedingly painful."

One of the guards was apologetic, "I'm sorry Doctor Lecter, this room doesn't have a dimmer and there are no windows. If the lights are turned off, we will be in total darkness."

"Surely the camera crew has some sort of lighting that can provide adequate illumination. Just for a few moments until my eyes adjust."

Bloom entered the room just as the officer reached for the light switch. "What are you doing?" he insisted, "Do you have any idea how dangerous he will be with the lights off?"

Hannibal countered, "Doctor Bloom how long have I been detained in this fashion?"

Bloom was indignant, "Thirty-seven hours now. Why?"

"I have been fully restrained in chains, hog-tied to a steel bunk without benefit of food or water, not to mention being denied the use of a bathroom. I am therefore of severely diminished physically capability. I would hardly refer to myself as dangerous. I am exhausted and suffering from dangerously low blood sugar and dehydration. I am making a simple request for a modification as I don't wish to damage my eyes."

One of the officers stepped forward and spoke quietly, "Excuse me Doctor Lecter, I may have a solution. I'm going to touch you- don't be alarmed I'm merely attempting to help you."

The police officer was wearing a very dark pair of sunglasses. He took them off and placed them on Hannibal's face.

He explained, "Doctor Lecter, I've taken the liberty of placing my sunglasses over your eyes. They're really dark and should offer you enough protection to give your eyes the chance to adjust. Open them very slowly and see if that helps you some."

Hannibal squinted for a few moments and blinking hard, nodded as he spoke, "Yes…thank you Officer that was kind of you."

Bloom ripped the glasses from Hannibal's face. The floodlights for the camera combined with the sudden revelation of the room's lighting caused Hannibal to wince in agony as the light flooded his unprotected eyes.

Bloom turned and tossed the sunglasses disrespectfully at the officer. "Don't ever give him something that hasn't been cleared. That's a severe breach in security protocol. Had he wished to, he could have killed you with that. Anything is a weapon to him."

The police officer pointed the earpiece of his glasses at Bloom in a threatening manner. He warned, "Don't insinuate he's dangerous because I gave him sunglasses. If he wanted to hurt someone he wouldn't need a weapon. Have you read his file…_He is the weapon_." The officer put his glasses back on and mumbled quietly to his colleague, "If Hannibal doesn't kill him…I might."

Hannibal's eyes were tearing uncontrollably as his lachrymal ducts reacted to protect the organs by flooding them with fluid. Hannibal violently twisted and turned his head away from the lights blinking back the pain. He struggled, unable to wipe his eyes as his hands were still chained behind him.

The cameraman felt so bad he lowered the camera and turned to the producer, "Really…are you fucking kidding me? I can barely watch this much less film it."

The producer directed him to continue. She whispered, "We will discuss this at the production meeting. For now, if you want to help Doctor Lecter, roll that damned camera and don't miss a second of this."

Bloom couldn't hear the producer but Hannibal, with his exceptional hearing could and the knowledge gathered in that brief interaction made the blinding light of the camera worth it.

The producer leaned over and spoke to the journalist. The journalist listened carefully, nodded and reached into her purse. She took out several tissues and stood in front of Hannibal, the camera rolling as she turned his back to the lights.

She spoke very quietly, "Doctor Lecter, I'm going to wipe the tears from your eyes. I've positioned you so that your back is to the lights for the camera. I'm going to turn off the lights in the room so you can open your eyes. Is that okay? Will you let me do that for you?"

Hannibal nodded, "Yes, thank you."

The journalist wiped the tracks of tears and cleaned up Hannibal's face. She then flipped the light switch so the only illumination came from the camera. "May I speak to you as your eyes adjust and ask you what you experienced? We had a night vision camera in the room with you and it appeared as if you didn't move the entire time."

Hannibal was obviously exhausted and shifted uncomfortably for a moment seeking to redistribute his body weight and adjust the pressure of the chains. His voice was warm but weak, reflecting the strain of his ordeal, "I sought to conserve my energy. I had no idea how long I would be forced to endure that treatment."

Seeing his discomfort the reporter turned to Bloom, "Can we have a chair for Doctor Lecter?"

With a wave of his hand, Bloom dismissed the request, "He's fine. He can sit when he is with his attorney."

The reporter paused with her mouth hanging open, slack jawed at the lack of empathy.

The sympathetic cameraman angrily set his camera down, "Fuck this." He pushed past Bloom, retrieved a chair and placed it behind Hannibal. "Please Doctor Lecter…sit."

Bloom moved to pull the chair out from beneath Hannibal. The cameraman shoved him back and pointed a threatening finger at Bloom, "If you touch that chair, I swear I'll lay you out with one punch!"

He picked up his camera as Bloom paced in the background.

The journalist held a microphone to Hannibal. He sat very still on the edge of the seat.

"So Doctor Lecter, we were discussing how you were able to remain so still for thirty-six hours?"

Hannibal continued, "I had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed and remaining still was not difficult as I was shackled."

"Your body must have been in pain being that restricted."

"Pain can be ignored and my movement had already been extremely restricted. I simply chose not to fight that restriction. It would have sapped my energy and further depleted my body."

"So you were consciously conserving your energy?"

"If indeed you had a camera in the room you no doubt saw that during the isolation, I received neither food nor drink. Had I struggled I may have created a medical situation for myself. I have a wife and a child on the way and I am not as young as once I was, therefore I cannot afford to take risks with my health. I must put the needs of my family above my own needs. Remaining still seemed my only recourse."

Hannibal again shifted uncomfortably. His eyes now adjusted, he turned in his seat to face Bloom.

"Doctor Bloom, I am in need of a bathroom and a shower. I am certain there are guidelines in this facility as to the treatment of prisoners. Though I am here without conviction, I would appreciate the same courtesy afforded the other inmates."

"Your lawyer is waiting for you in the next room. You can shower after you meet with him."

"Certainly, must I wait for the bathroom as well?"

"Unless you intend on soiling yourself you'll wait. Follow me."

Bloom opened a door on the other side of the room revealing a small inner office where Hannibal was to wait for his lawyer. Hannibal entered the room and sat forward on the edge of the chair, hands still cuffed behind him. Within moments a tall man with a briefcase hurried into the room. He opened his briefcase and began pulling out files.

The lawyer spread several documents out in front of Hannibal. "Hello, Doctor Lecter, it's good to see you though not under these circumstances. I had hoped you would be left in peace after the commutation of your sentences but it seems Doctor Bloom may have other plans. These documents are for your review. I have been given several release forms from the production company following Doctor Bloom's progress. I suggest you refrain from signing so that this travesty will not continue."

"To what travesty are you referring, Mr. Marion?"

The lawyer waved his pen at the assemblage, "I am referring to the fact that this absolute charade is being filmed. I cannot see the benefit to you. It is obviously self-serving on Doctor Bloom's part and therefore, impractical, possibly dangerous, on your part.

"Whether it is a charade or not is irrelevant as I have been court-ordered to participate. Why in your opinion would the filming be an impractical consideration?"

"Because I cannot control the content being filmed or it's editing."

"One would assume you can request an unedited copy can you not?"

"Yes, but…"

"Are these the release forms in front of me?"

"Yes, but…"

"I do not fear the presence of the camera as I am not the one with something to hide," Hannibal pronounced, "I wish an accurate record of my treatment."

The attorney protested vehemently, "This is a mistake Doctor Lecter. Your evaluation is part of your private medical records and you are making them very, very public."

"Let us not mince words. Though I have been pardoned, the accounts of my so called crimes have been very graphic and were made very public. If I am going to be an accepted member of this, or any society I must live my life publicly in order to remove the stigma of fear attached to me. I have done nothing wrong. I will do nothing wrong, therefore I have nothing to fear by signing the release forms."

The lawyer threatened, "I'll tell you what you should be afraid of…if you sign those forms…I quit."

"Other than losing my wife or my child, there is nothing on this earth I fear, therefore there is no need for posturing as your behavior will have no bearing on my decision…" Hannibal stood, contorted his body to reach for the pen on the desk and scrawled his name as best he could with his hands still cuffed. "…and you needn't worry yourself with quitting, Mr. Marion. You're fired."

**CLARICE**

Clarice was absolutely inconsolable during the ambulance ride. When her blood pressure started to spike causing the baby to experience bradycardia, they were forced to sedate her.

Clarice woke with Ardelia and Logan at her bedside. Barney was sitting in the corner at his computer looking up the State of Baltimore's involuntary commitment rules.

Before speaking, Clarice reached for her stomach to check the baby.

Ardelia comforted, "Don't worry, Clarice. The baby is fine. You've just got to stay put. You can't take any chances. They don't want that baby being born yet. They've had you mildly sedated. You must have been really overwhelmed because you've been out like a light for five days."

"Five days? Where's H? He couldn't get himself out yet? What's going on?" Clarice asked, disappointed not to see Hannibal at her side. "What's happening with the baby?"

Barney stood and walked across the room, "Hey Clarice. I hope you don't mind but Hannibal submitted papers with his attorney that in the event you and he were incapacitated and unable to make medical decisions that I be called."

"Yeah, I know Barney. I signed them too. What's happening? Is the baby okay?"

"The baby is perfect. They took an ultrasound. You're bleeding was caused by a marginal case of placenta previa but not to worry, the doctor thinks with eight weeks left, it may still migrate. It's borderline now so there's plenty of room for improvement. You're on bed rest for now, though."

"Okay what does that mean? Am I stuck with a c-section?" she asked as calmly as she could manage.

Barney was confident and assured, "If the placenta doesn't migrate, yes but there's still a chance for a vaginal delivery if it does. You really just need to rest."

Clarice's eyes shifted to Ardelia, "Please tell me you know what happened to him? Tell me there's some kind of news."

"Bloom's got him over at the prison," Ardelia mumbled knowing Clarice wouldn't react well.

"What? Why the prison? He wasn't arrested. He hasn't done anything wrong! What about the dart? What about his head?"

Barney answered calmly, "The muscle blockers stopped his heart so they had to paddle him twice on the ambulance ride to the hospital. He was on the ventilator the first twenty- four hours. After that, they took their time weaning him until he could breathe on his own. He was transferred to the prison two days ago."

Clarice was devastated, "Prison…_prison…_that'll kill him. What's wrong with those people? What the fuck is Pearsall doing? What about Will Graham?"

Ardelia waved her hands signaling for Clarice to calm down. "They're gonna toss us out on our collective asses if your heart rate spikes so listen and don't react. Graham and Pearsall are trying to get some attention from the White House. The problem is the White House is avowing knowledge of the situation and saying they can't get involved if the courts acted because of the separation of powers between the Executive and the Judicial branches of government."

Clarice sat up, her voice determined, "Get me the phone I need to get Hannibal's attorney now!"

Ardelia cringed, "Okay…don't shoot the messenger, but Hannibal fired his attorney."

"What?" Clarice was devastated, "How could he sabotage himself like that?"

Ardelia explained quietly hoping her calm would help Clarice, "Bloom was filming everything for a documentary he's calling 'Inside the Mind of a Madman.' The lawyer told Hannibal if he signed the release forms to give permission for the taping, that he would quit. Hannibal signed the papers right in front of his attorney then he fired the guy."

Logan laughed, "Hannibal is such a pimp! He won't even take shit from his own attorney…what a pimp!"

Clarice shot Logan an evil stare causing him to raise his hands in apology, "Sorry Clarice, but you have to give Hannibal credit. He's got a plan and he's sticking to it."

"What do you know about Hannibal's plan, Babe?" Ardelia asked.

Logan was pacing around the room highly animated, "Nothing…I just _trust_ _Hannibal._ That pimp's _always _got a plan and you can bet the farm no one will figure it out. He's too smart for them. Bloom is screwed he just doesn't know it yet."

Clarice didn't want to let on that she knew anything about Hannibal's plan. She was frustrated and expressed her anger by grousing, "Well whatever his plan is, he'd better get it together because if he isn't here for the birth of our baby I'll never forgive him."

Clarice turned over in bed. She wouldn't have minded if Ardelia saw her cry but not the men. She wouldn't show weak eyes to any man except Hannibal.

She closed her eyes and allowed her unseen tears to flow. She knew Hannibal couldn't see them, but she was sure he would feel them. Somewhere, though neither could see the stars, she knew they shared them and that was enough for now.

**HANNIBAL'S TREATMENT**

Hannibal was lead to the shower under full guard with the camera crew in tow documenting the procedure.

Hannibal peaked into the shower room. It was small with several shower heads aligned. He was grateful the room had only one entrance, therefore the guards would not need to accompany him in the actual shower. The shackles were removed. Hannibal used the opportunity to stretch his muscles. It took several attempts before he could roll his shoulders and bring his arms to the front of his body.

A woman dressed in medical scrubs entered the room and approached Hannibal. She reached for his hand and shook it warmly, "Hello, Doctor Lecter my name is Lora. I'll be the nurse in charge of your care during your evaluation. Would you mind if I examined you?"

"May I shower first?" Hannibal requested, "I would be more comfortable with the examination if that is acceptable."

"Absolutely, I'd like to put a waterproof dressing over the stitches in your forehead to keep the area dry, but first we will have to undress you. I can assist or I can ask one of the men if you would be more comfortable."

Hannibal smiled, "No, I am perfectly comfortable with your assistance. Somehow being manhandled by a prison guard is not my idea of enjoyment, pleasant though they have been. I'll rely on your bedside manner and professionalism in that regard."

The nurse placed a square of protective plastic over the stitches and sealed the area. She then waited for Hannibal to begin to undress himself.

"I don't wish to be intrusive so let me know when you need assistance, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal stepped out of his prison issued sneakers and unfastened the pants. He was able to lower them, but was having difficulty lifting his leg and reaching down. A protracted sigh expressed his frustration.

Lora stepped in, "Place your hand on my shoulder for support. I'll bend in front of you and help you lift each leg and step out of the pants. We'll begin with the left."

Hannibal was surprised at how sore his muscles were and was forced to lean heavily on the nurse. She helped him with one leg, then the other. "This is much more difficult than I imagined," he commented.

"The shirt will be more difficult, your arms have been in restraints for far longer than I would have approved. You'll have to take your time. You're going to be very sore."

Hannibal reached for the tee shirt and attempted to remove it. He struggled for a moment but couldn't manage on his own, "It seems I'm yet not capable of this."

"I'd be happy to help."

Again, the nurse explained the process she would use to assist. "I'm going to grasp the back of your shirt up and lift it. We will then bend your arm at the elbow and lower it through the opening."

Though the nurse moved his limbs gently Hannibal winced as his sore arms were manipulated to remove the shirt. He then leaned against the doorway of the shower as she helped him remove his socks and slip on a pair of prison issue shower sandals. She moved into the shower and turned the faucets testing the water.

"The water is warm now, as your body tolerates, we will raise the temperature to sooth your muscles."

The nurse, empathizing with Hannibal's plight smoothed a comforting, but gloved hand across his shoulders rubbing his aching muscles. She spoke very quietly, "I'm so sorry Doctor Lecter, but I'll have to remain near you in the shower. There's a danger with your recent immobility that your blood pressure may suddenly drop. I'll make sure to offer you all the privacy I can but I'll need to remain within your arm's length. Should you feel weak, reach for me and I'll steady you."

"Thank you, nurse. How long will I have to shower?" Hannibal asked as he slipped off his boxers and slowly stepped in to the tiled room.

"As long as you are able to stand comfortably you can stay. I've known Doctor Bloom for quite some time so don't you worry about him, he knows better than to argue with me about my patients. Your muscles will benefit from the hot water so if you can stand, I'll keep him out. After this you'll be placed in your cell so don't rush. You'll be alone again for the rest of the night. I'd like you to enjoy as much physical contact as possible. Though you tolerated the deprivation well, there are lasting effects to that kind of isolation if you aren't properly stimulated. Tonight, in your cell, I will make sure you're not restrained in any way."

Hannibal was relieved he would be again returned to the cell and very pleased this particular nurse had been assigned to his case. She was thoughtful and professional. He believed himself to be in very competent hands.

Hannibal ducked his head under the stream of water and reached for the soap. He slowly lathered his chest and arms and was thankful he was fully able to reach his groin, but struggled to move past or around his thighs. Bending at the waist he groaned.

Lora noticed his pain, reached for a washcloth and lathered it thick with soap. Hannibal exhaled deeply as she began to wash his back and shoulders. She rubbed the muscles in deep circles, helping the blood flow to each area. She cleaned his legs and the backs of his thighs. Staying behind him so as to preserve his modesty she reached around his body and washed his thighs and calves. Bending low she helped him to lift his legs to wash his feet thoroughly. She finished by again addressing his back and shoulders. She spoke quietly, "Can you reach back and clean your bottom?"

"Yes, I can manage…thank you."

She handed him the washcloth and Hannibal, straining his arms slightly, finished washing himself.

Lora stood beside him, just outside the direct spray of the shower, though she was indeed getting wet indirectly, making sure Hannibal could enjoy the tactile sensations of the water pulsing against his body.

Bloom poked his head into the stall and complained, "Nurse what is taking so long?"

Lora shifted her attention from Hannibal to Bloom, "I am attending to the needs of my patient, Doctor Bloom therefore I would ask you to remove yourself from the situation, please," she warned.

As they argued, Hannibal turned his body and leaned his back against the tile. He was obviously exhausted but didn't want to leave the warm comfort of the shower. Lora, not realizing he had turned his body in her direction, faced with the unexpected frontal nudity had a momentary lapse and looked down seeing Hannibal in a semi-erect state. Embarrassed by what she considered was a breach in his privacy and thankful Hannibal's eyes were closed, she quickly looked away.

The information gathered from her accidental inspection made her inquire, "Doctor Lecter, excuse me asking but how long have you been away from your wife?"

"Five days I think."

"Has there been a camera on you that entire time? Is there a camera in your cell as well?"

"Yes."

"There is _no_ time that you have not been under surveillance? You have no _private_ time?"

"Not thus far."

"Doctor Lecter, if you are feeling secure leaning against the tile, I'm going to step away from you and stand just outside this doorway. I will be certain to fully block the view from the outside to allow you to attend to your physical needs in privacy. No one will enter this area until you call for me. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

A slow smile crossed Hannibal's face. "Yes…I understand…thank you."

Hannibal closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on Clarice.

Minutes later, when he called for the nurse, she returned and helped him to towel off, careful that his dignity remained intact as she helped him to dress.

"I will oversee your care while you're here Doctor. I'll do my best to see you don't continue to suffer unduly. When you get back to your cell, be sure to sleep. You need to build your strength."

"Yes…thank you. I'm appreciative of your professionalism and your care."

The nurse moved to hug Hannibal. He allowed the gesture not knowing why. She quickly whispered in his ear, "She hasn't had the baby yet…they're both safe."

Hannibal grasped her shoulders, his body trembling in relief and whispered, "Thank you, Lora…thank you."

Hannibal was trussed in his chains and escorted to his cell. The door closed with him sitting quietly on the bunk. He waited until he was certain his keepers were no longer near. He then turned onto his side and faced away from the door. He was sleeping soundly within minutes without anyone considering the fact that he had still not been fed.

The next morning the normal sounds of prison life woke Hannibal. A large metal cart was rolling down the row delivering meals. An elderly inmate was in charge of delivering the meals. Hannibal, unsure of whether or not he would be fed, remained very still. Suddenly the cart and the inmate appeared in front of his door. The taller man, an older African-American, opened the food port and whispered inside.

"Hey…Doctor, Come here…quick."

Hannibal moved swiftly to the opening.

The old man whispered, "We're not supposed to feed you. Only that doctor is supposed to feed you."

Hannibal nodded, "I assumed as much."

The man stuffed an egg and bacon sandwich wrapped in towel paper through the opening.

"That's got three eggs scrambled up with some greens and bacon. I even put a slice of cheese on it. It ain't pretty but it should keep up your strength for a time. He pushed a banana and a carton of milk through the opening. I've got to come back for the carton and the peel. You can flush the paper towel. If they come before I get back, put the peel inside and toss the carton out of your food tray so they don't know who had it."

"Thank you my friend. I am in your debt."

"Eat the sandwich quick so you don't have to flush it. Won't do you know good if it's down the crapper."

"Indeed."

The man moved to the next cell to deliver the meal. Hannibal took the food to the back of his cell and sat on the bunk facing the wall. He ate the sandwich as quickly as he could manage and still keep it down. The milk and banana he alternated until all of the food had been consumed. Hannibal heard rolling wheels and hoped it was not the hand truck. He moved to the food port to see his new friend.

"Did you finish it all?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Okay, pass me the carton and the banana peel so I can get rid of it."

Hannibal did as he was told.

"I'll be by every day at least once. I'll get as many calories as I can into each sandwich and get you some fruit and milk too. The tubby little white man calls the shots I guess. You'll get a good hot meal when they let me serve you. You make sure to drink water to fill your belly in case you miss a meal or two. I can't leave you nothing if you're not in your cell 'cuz they'll catch me and that'll be the end of the food. Hope you understand."

"Perfectly."

The old man moved to the next cell. Hannibal called after him. "Sir, why are you helping me?"

"Because it's something I can do for my nephew. He's always taking care of the family helping out with money…he don't ask nobody for nothing. Every month faithful he sends me money to spend at the canteen so when he asked me this…well… I told him I'd find you and I'd make it my business to do it. "

"What is your nephew's name? What's your name?"

"His old man named him for me so we got the same name but not the same shame. I'm Barney Matthews… I expect now you know who my nephew is."

Hannibal should have been shocked but he saw an immediate resemblance. Both men had a spark of curiosity behind their wide-set eyes. He answered quickly, "Yes…yes…he is my dearest…my only friend."

The elderly man nodded, "He's a good man…in spite of him being surrounded by the likes of me around him coming up. His daddy was a good man though."

"Barney is a good man," Hannibal confirmed.

"That's kind of you to say…I'll see you later Doctor." The old man with his back bent from the weight of his life's decisions, pushed the cart down the aisle. Hannibal could not see him, though he could hear him quite clearly as he hummed Amazing Grace on his way back to the kitchen.

_Barney..._

Hannibal was ready when they came for him. Seeing no point to it, the guards were refusing to use the hand truck. They refused the use of the straight jacket and the mask as well. They simply cuffed Hannibal behind his back and shackled his legs.

The guards escorted him to the same room he had been left in for the sensory deprivation experiment. There was a large machine. Hannibal recognized it immediately.

"Electroconvulsive Therapy?" he asked, "Sine-wave or pulse?"

Bloom busied himself at the machine, "I'm old-fashioned so I stick with the sine-wave."

"No one has administered a sedative. Muscle relaxers are also indicated."

"Your tolerance for pain is legendary. Shall we put it to the test today?" Bloom taunted.

"Do I not have the right to refuse, after all, Voluntas aegroti suprema lex."

"Normally the will of the patient _would_ indeed be supreme but not in this case. I am the authority."

"Have you received a court order allowing you to perform this procedure without my permission?"

"Of course I have."

Hannibal sighed as he stepped into the room. As Bloom attached the electrodes, Hannibal focused on the one thought that would get him through.

As the electricity coursed through his system, clenching his jaw and inducing seizures, Hannibal repeated it over and over again.

_She hasn't had the baby yet…they're both safe. _

And that was enough for him.

**Hope you liked the chapter!**

**Review and let me know what you think, then pm and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	97. Chapter 97

**SHOCK**

Doctor Bloom paced back and forth in front of Hannibal. He took his time drawing back the large leather straps of the restraint system. Although Hannibal had already been shocked once and was secured firmly to avoid movement Bloom continually tightened the straps. Hannibal was having difficulty breathing and closed his eyes to relax himself and slow his respirations before the next painful administration ensued.

Hannibal moved through his memory palace and opened the door to the grand salon. Clarice rested on a chaise, her hair cascading down her back. Hannibal took his seat across from her. Just before he drifted off to sleep the thought occurred to him that the scene he was both watching and participating in was reminiscent of Botticelli's Venus and Mars. As the electricity surged through his brain, he mused that in the painting, Mar's head was surrounded by a swarm of wasps. Hannibal believed on some level it compared to the electroconvulsive therapy and would have been equally irritating.

As Hannibal reclined, just before he closed his eyes, the site of his wife, her belly now swollen with their child and her face radiating love, caused his breath to catch in his throat.

_If I saw you every day, forever, I'd remember this time. _

Although Hannibal's body responded to the volts surging through him Hannibal paid little attention. He needed to further relax so he moved to Clarice, went to his knee and rested his head on her belly. Hannibal listened to the sounds of his child moving within. He felt only the warmth of his wife's love and the heat of his body resting against hers.

Bloom, seeing Hannibal's indifference between shocks, increased the amount of time the electricity was coursing into Hannibal's body.

Bloom waved his arms as he spoke, clearly over gesticulating. He believed himself to be the king of this brutal little world in which Hannibal's only purpose was Bloom's ego aggrandizement. With the cameras rolling, he prepared to perform the macabre task of again discharging the painful treatment to his _patient_.

"Pain provides exceptional encouragement therefore Doctor Lecter will be questioned immediately following the next dose. The lack of a sedative was not an oversight but a conscious decision on my part to make Hannibal more _compliant_ in the interview."

The reporter raised an eyebrow as Bloom plainly admitted to what she believed was torture.

"Hannibal Lecter has been given nothing to ease the pain of the procedure? Is that medically sound?" she questioned before returning the microphone to Bloom.

"This is an investigative assessment. The boundaries must be pushed to determine whether or not this man poses a threat. He must be in a very raw state. Pain makes a person raw. It makes a person angry. If he can't control his anger he should not be allowed to live among people."

"Are you insinuating that he is less a person than you or I?"

Bloom was unapologetic in his response, "I've stated it before. He's not a person at all. He's a monster. Doctor Lecter has inhuman tolerances to pain, therefore what may be excruciating to us will barely raise an eyebrow to him."

The reporter continued, "There is no way for you to know what this may or may not be doing to him. He may be able to keep still and not cry out but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel the pain."

"He doesn't _feel _at all."

He then turned the dial and administered another dose leaving it on far beyond the recommended time allotment.

Hannibal was in full seizure when the nurse arrived. She opened the door and was horrified not when she saw Hannibal's body arch against the restraints in response to the spasms, but when she realized his eyes were alert. Understanding that the pain would be excruciating, she immediately ran to the machine and turned it off.

Bloom was standing beside Hannibal so that he would be able to enjoy his patient's reaction close-up. He was well aware of the camera and wanted not only to be in the shot itself as Hannibal's body was wracked, but to be in focus as well.

"What the hell are you doing? Bloom barked out, "Just because Pearsall requested you on this case it doesn't mean I have to listen to you. I'm the doctor. You're the nurse. If he soils himself and needs his ass wiped you can help. If not, mind your business. I haven't even started with him yet!"

Lora was concerned for Hannibal's health and did not consider the strict security protocol. She rushed and unbuckled the straps holding Hannibal to the table.

Hannibal opened his eyes but remained completely still so as not to draw attention to his release.

Lora was insulted by the demeaning comment and though her voice was not raised in anger, she was adamant, "Wipe his ass? Let me tell you you little shit that I'm not amused. I'm also not the least bit intimidated by your sudden bravado in front of the cameras, _Doctor _and I use that term loosely."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm following protocol. I have a court order allowing this procedure," Bloom defended.

"That you got by saying he's psychotic which he clearly is not!" Lora turned to the producer. "How many times did he engage the current?"

The members of the film crew and the guards were distracted by the argument between Lora and Bloom. No one noticed, including Bloom, that Hannibal was absolutely unsecured.

The producer replied without hesitation, "That was the third time."

"The normal dose would be approximately six seconds. How long did he let the current run each time?"

"That's hard to say but it was more than six. It had to have been a minimum of fifteen or twenty seconds each time."

Lora glared at Bloom. "Get away from him," she threatened, "or I swear to God I'll get your license pulled."

Bloom ignored Lora grabbed Hannibal's shoulders and shouted in his face, "What did you do with Frederick Chilton's body? Did you kill him _and_ eat him?"

Hannibal flared his nostrils as he searched the air. His voice had an eerie calm to it as he spoke.

"The scent of blood is heavy can you smell it? The familiar scent of it combined with the metallic taste on my tongue leads me to conclude the blood is mine." Hannibal rolled his tongue over his lips and commented, "I think my iron levels are low Alan. Can you please speak to the nutritionist my diet seems to be lacking."

Lora took out her stethoscope and began to examine Hannibal pausing momentarily to listen to his heartbeat. She reached for his wrist and took his pulse as well. "Doctor Lecter? Have you been fed?"

Hannibal, finding lying unacceptable but not wanting to reveal his elderly friend's assistance chose his words very carefully, "Doctor Bloom has ordered the prison staff to not deliver meals to my cell. He has yet to provide either permission to them or food to me."

"You are not receiving the same meals the inmates are receiving?"

Hannibal could be honest answering this question without compromising his patron, "No, I am not."

Lora faced Bloom. "Doctor Lecter has been in our care for forty-eight hours. How many meals have you provided?"

"He will eat when he tells me what part of _Chilton_ he ate," Bloom insisted.

Realizing by its placement that the camera in his cell would have picked up his meal but not the person delivering it Hannibal explained, "I was able to consume a sandwich given me by a concerned person this morning," Hannibal commented honestly, "Though it was no thanks to Alan."

"In two days you've only consumed one sandwich?" Lora questioned with concern.

Hannibal added, "One sandwich, a banana, and a carton of milk."

"Have you received any sedatives? Have you received any medication at all?"

Hannibal answered as he wiped the heel of his hand across his mouth to assess his bleeding. "No medication has been administered."

Lora looked at Bloom, "Are you kidding me?"

Bloom remained obstinate, "What? You think he deserves better? He killed Fred and he probably ate at least _part_ of him."

Hannibal responded dispassionately, "Just for your own edification there is no part of that despicable human being I would have _ever_ found suitable for consumption."

With an angry grunt Bloom reached back and punched Hannibal Lecter across the left cheek.

Though Hannibal could have avoided the contact, he allowed and absorbed the full force of the attack. His head snapped to the right and centered quickly.

Terrified by the scene the cameraman whispered to the producer, "I couldn't tell through the camera's eyepiece. Did he even blink?"

She whispered, "No. His head snapped around and he just pulled it back. That was the scariest thing I've ever seen."

The cameraman shook his head, "That's some Terminator shit right there. This guy's a beast!"

Bloom reached back to swing again and with blinding speed Hannibal sprung from the table and was instantaneously nose to nose with Bloom. Bloom's eyes widened, his terror evident as he realized he was face to face with an unbound and enraged opponent.

Suddenly realizing that Hannibal Lecter's movement was fully unrestricted the occupants of the room took a collective gasp. Nothing stood between Hannibal and Bloom. Nothing stood between mayhem.

Panicked, Bloom raised his hands protectively and whined, "Don't hurt me."

Hannibal's chest heaved, his fists clenched and unclenched at his side as he attempted to regain his self-control.

Within his mind Hannibal waged a terrifying battle as he leaned against the door of his memory palace containing Predator. He pumped and churned his legs with all his might. He struggled to hold closed the door as the instrument of his revenge raged against the entrance seeking slaughter, seeking chaos. Predator slammed against the opening attempting to erupt, seeking to overrule. Hannibal called on Protector, the keeper of his family's safety to help him seal the door. Protector pressed against the gnarled wood and sealed Predator within.

_Protector rules for my family. Predator must stay hidden._

The door safely sealed and his rage in hand, Hannibal blinked once. This action served as a mental kill switch and immediately disconnected his anger from the situation. He turned from Bloom and backed his body toward the officers with his hands behind his back preparing to be cuffed.

Everyone released their collectively held breaths as Hannibal Lecter surrendered.

Still breathless from the action Hannibal spoke, "I am rather overwhelmed officers. I believe it would be best for everyone concerned if Doctor Bloom and I were parted for now. I am certain he has had his fill of me. Please take me back to my cell."

The officer's, terrified of Hannibal's capabilities, were relieved to have him voluntarily offer himself for restraint. The lead guard moved toward Hannibal with the chains. He placed a grateful hand on Hannibal's shoulder, "Thank you, Doctor Lecter. That could have gotten real ugly real fast. That assault will be in my report."

Hannibal stood patiently and allowed the guards to shackle his legs and cuff his hands. He maintained his composure as the cuffs and shackles were attached to the lead chain.

Hannibal spoke very calmly, "As I have said before, my only concerns are for my wife and for my unborn child. I will not risk their safety or happiness for anyone or anything. For my Clarice…I will gladly turn the other cheek."

Lora approached Bloom and spoke in a very firm, but professional manner, "Doctor Bloom, you will provide Doctor Lecter with a hot meal when he returns to his cell. He will receive the same care and dignity we would have afforded him had he been hospitalized for this evaluation. If his level of care is not immediately improved, when I speak to Deputy Director Pearsall to give him my daily report I will specify the details of this treatment. I will specify that I believe your intent not to be Doctor Lecter's assessment or his treatment, but I believe your motivations toward him are malicious."

"Electroconvulsive therapy is an accepted course of treatment for psychotic patients."

"It is more often used in cases of Depression or Schizophrenia. It is rarely used in patients with psychotic tendencies and you have not proven Doctor Lecter to be psychotic. Today your only goal was to cause Hannibal Lecter severe pain and show off a bit in front of the cameras. There is absolutely no clinical explanation as to why you administer electroconvulsive therapy without any form of sedative. It was barbaric and if it happens again, I will move to have to you dismissed from this case. Not to mention the fact that you have yet to feed him."

"Oh please, a little fasting is good for the body and it's not like he's starving to death. I was going to feed him tonight anyway!" Bloom argued in defiance, "You act like I'm trying to kill him or something."

"No you act like you're trying to kill him. I'm trying to stop you!" Lora insisted. "Doctor Lecter, have you been allowed to contact you wife in any way?"

"No, I have not. I am certain she is on bed rest and will not be allowed to visit."

Lora reached into her bag and pulled out a felt tipped pen, writing paper, and a security lined envelope.

"Doctor Lecter, write whatever you wish and seal the envelope. We will have the note delivered to your wife personally." She placed the material in his hands, now secured behind his back. The guards were moving quickly to attach the shackles to his legs. The chain was hooked up linking the hands and feet causing him to shuffle slightly to avoid tripping.

Hannibal was led to his cell with the guards following all of the procedures as outlined. After locking the door the lead guard spoke quietly through the food port.

"You could have ripped that moron apart if you wanted to."

"Yes. I had considered it."

"But you didn't."

"No. Although it would have been immensely satisfying it would have been unwise and it would have placed you in a very difficult position. I wouldn't compromise my marriage or your employment for the likes of Doctor Bloom."

"Compromise your marriage?"

"I promised my wife I would refrain from such actions. She would not have been pleased had I gone back on my word to her."

"So Clarice would've been pissed at you?"

"That would be putting it mildly. What of your wife?"

"If you had ripped that idiot apart I would have lost my job and believe me, she would've killed me. You've proven to us all that you can be trusted Doctor Lecter. Tomorrow you walk without the leg restraints. Cuffs only from now on and don't worry about the prison food tonight. Your dinner will be on me. If you get that letter to Clarice finished within the next two hours I'll deliver on my way home."

"I would appreciate that Officer. I would like to alleviate her concern."

"Not to worry. It's the least I can do."

As soon as the officer closed the food port Hannibal sat and quickly composed a letter to Clarice.

There was a part of his plan he would need her to set in motion. He did not have ample time to explain this to her as her health was his primary concern.

He sealed the envelope, moved to his bunk and closed his eyes. He was exhausted from the physical mistreatment. His muscles were sore from the spasms of the seizure activity and his jaw ached from being clenched in pain.

He slept for a full hour waking only when his food port was opened. The lead officer spoke quietly attempting not to startle Hannibal awake.

"Sorry Doctor Lecter I had to cut the meat myself. I couldn't give you a steak knife. Enjoy with my thanks. Did you finish the note for Clarice?"

"Yes, thank you for delivering it for me. Can you please tell her that I am well and that I love her very much? She will be beside herself with worry."

Hannibal passed the letter through the food tray. The officer accepted the letter and tucked it into the front pocket of his uniform.

The officer then passed a foam food container through the port. Hannibal graciously accepted it and waited for the officer to close the port before sitting at his small table. He opened the container to reveal an exceptionally well prepared piece of filet mignon, rare, with fresh vegetables and risotto.

"Goodnight Doctor."

"Goodnight Officer. Thank you."

Hannibal enjoyed the meal almost as much as he was enjoying the steady downward spiral of Bloom's career.

**HANNIBAL'S PLAN**

The officer arrived to deliver the note to Clarice at home. She opened the door and immediately panicked when she saw his uniform. The officer realized what she must have thought and apologized, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to frighten you Mrs. Lecter. Your husband is well. I just left him at the prison. He asked me to tell you that he loves you very much. I have a letter for you from him."

The officer handed the note to Clarice.

"How are they treating him? Bloom hates my husband so much I'm worried sick about him."

"I won't lie to you, he's had it rough but he is in good spirits. He's a tough son of a bitch I've got to give him that. He's impressive…really impressive. I wouldn't be able to handle what he's been able to."

"He's amazing. I'm very lucky."

"I think he feels the same way about you. Anyway we are all looking out for him. Don't worry. He'll be home soon."

"Tell him I love him."

"I'd be happy to. Have a good night Mrs. Lecter."

Clarice closed the door and took the note to the bedroom. She curled up on the bed and opened the envelope.

_**Dearest Clarice, **_

_**I hope this letter finds you well. Our good friend Doctor Bloom is behaving much as I suspected therefore all will be well. **_

_**I am concerned for your health as I am getting very little information. Please contact Clint Pearsall and ask that I be given a copy of your medical records. I wish to review your test results and confirm my diagnosis. **_

_**Though I know your instincts will be to protect me you must first consider our child. Stay at home. Do not attempt to visit. Your health and that of our baby must be your only priority.**_

_**If you wish to assist me you may contact our friend, Mariyah. Explain the situation to her and request the assistance of her father. It is obvious the White House will avoid any discussion of my re-assessment. Mr. Bashandi will be offended that his promise to me has been summarily dismissed. He is a proud and principled man. He will most certainly move to correct this situation.**_

_**Be prepared Clarice. Contacting Mariyah will unleash an international firestorm. There will be a good deal of attention once again focused on our lives. Forgive me. I know you don't enjoy the attention however this is the most effective way to assure we are able to live our lives unimpeded in the future.**_

_**I send all of my love to you, Clarice. Please know that the most difficult part of this is not the incarceration itself. It is being separated from you. I promise my Love, we will be together soon. **_

_**Until then, I remain ever yours, **_

_**H**_

Clarice immediately went to the computer and composed a very detailed email to Mariyah Bashandi. She and Hannibal had both kept in touch with the young woman. Clarice wondered why Hannibal had been so adamant about his electronic correspondence with her. He offered quite a bit of emotional guidance in the weeks following Mariyah's release. Though Clarice was confused at the time, she was glad for it now. Mariyah was attached to Hannibal in a very real way. Clarice was certain as soon as she sent the email that the young girl would help, but would her father?

Mariyah Bashandi was procrastinating before writing her report and decided to go online and check her email. There were several from her friends all with the same name in the memo. Lecter. The final email was from Clarice. The memo: Hannibal needs your help.

_What? What's this all about?_

She opened them all one by one. Each had very similar information. It was all over the internet. Hannibal Lecter, the man that saved her life, was being held in prison without charges. She immediately went to Clarice's email. It detailed that Hannibal was taken forcibly from his home. He was shot with a tranquilizer dart that almost killed him in order to drag him away from her. Clarice explained in great detail that he was again being evaluated for his mental stability and had been deemed by an expert in forensic psychology to be a danger to society. There was talk he would not be allowed to see their baby. Clarice wondered if Mariyah's father could contact the president on Hannibal's behalf.

Tears welled in Mariyah's eyes.

_This isn't possible… They already said he was okay. How can they make him go through that all over again? He's not crazy._

Mariyah printed all of the information she could find on the case and got in her car. She was going to see her father.

_Father won't stand for this…they promised Doctor Lecter…they promised him, if he helped find me he could live with his wife and his baby. They promised!_

Although the secretary told the young lady her father was in a meeting, Mariyah walked past, ignoring her protestations and stormed into her father's office.

Waving the papers, she was crying, "Dad…they locked him up. They won't let him see his wife or be with her and she was taken away in an ambulance…they went back on their promise. The president…he made you look like a liar!"

Anwar Bashandi waved his daughter to him and reached for the papers the moment she offered them. He sorted through each account, his face reddened with anger as he processed the unfolding events.

He pressed an intercom on his conference table and rang his secretary. The moment she responded he quickly barked six words that would have great impact on Doctor Alan Bloom.

"Get me the American president, now!"

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Merry Christmas!**

**Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	98. Chapter 98

**I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! Happy Holidays and wishes for a wonderful and most importantly a healthy New Year to all of my wonderful fan fic friends!**

**DEGREES OF TRUTH**

Bashandi reproached the president for what he truly believed to be a blatant disregard for Doctor Lecter's rights based on the commutation of his sentences and the promises made at that time.

"I don't understand why Doctor Lecter is being re-evaluated. I was in the room speaking to him moments before he was to meet with the therapist. This therapist, I was told, had been chosen by the government specifically for the purpose of assessing Doctor Lecter's sanity."

"That is true to a degree," the president remarked.

Bashandi, with an expression of obvious concern, lifted an eyebrow at the statement.

"There are no _degrees_ of _truth_, Sir. Either something is true or it is false. Any insinuation otherwise tells me you are not a trustworthy person and that raises concerns for me; both in this case in any of our future dealings."

Ever the experienced politician, the president regrouped, "What I meant to say was that we specifically chose that particular therapist because we were certain he would agree with our position at the time."

Not one to be outmaneuvered, Bashandi leaned back in his chair and paused before answering. When he was certain he understood the nuances of the comment he replied very pointedly, "If I am to extrapolate you have therefore chosen Doctor Bloom because you believe he might now draw a different conclusion?"

The president was cagey in his response, "Let us just say that I wanted a more thorough evaluation."

He answered the comment in a very slow and staccato rhythm as if the beat of each syllable would stress the importance of the response, "Your desire for a more thorough evaluation has now made a liar out of me. Without any consideration or thought to my personal integrity you have stolen my honor and my dignity. I am more than a little offended, I am absolutely indignant and I want this matter rectified."

The president sounded genuinely confused, "I am not sure I understand how this affects your honor or your dignity. I issued the request. It has nothing to do with you."

Bashandi rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He was agitated and could not believe he was indirectly being asked to explain himself.

His tone mirrored his anger, "I looked that man directly in the eye and I asked him for his help. He told me of his pregnant wife and of his hopes for his child. He risked his life, his safety and his own future to come out of hiding help me to find my daughter. I will not stand idly by and let you steal his future with his own family from him. He has done nothing wrong."

Though the documentary being filmed was not scheduled for broadcast until the evaluation process was over, unedited versions were being leaked by the production staff. Snippets were being picked up and broadcast on evening news reports preceded by warnings that the content, Lecter's physical torment, would be too much for young viewers. Hannibal Lecter was the most searched topic on the internet. YouTube was flooded with views.

Mariyah listened quietly to the conversation. As her father reprimanded the president she took out her ipad and queued up several videos of Hannibal's treatment. Her father watched with rapt attention as the president droned in his ear. He pounded his fist on the table when he saw Hannibal strapped to the table and electrodes placed on his head. When Hannibal's body arched from the electrical current raging through his system, Bashandi took the device from his daughter. He searched and found the video of Hannibal taken from his home. His eyes welled as the camera picked up Hannibal, dart sticking out of his neck staggering away to protect his wife. When he saw Clarice crying and calling for her husband as they loaded her into an ambulance, overwhelmed by the scene Anwar Bashandi pushed the IPad away.

The president was still rambling as Anwar Bashandi used the back of his hand to wipe at the tears welling in his eyes.

"…I know it seems redundant. I just wanted some assurances before we allowed him to take up residency in the United States."

The president understood it was the wrong thing to say the moment he heard Anwar Bashandi's authoritative baritone voice now shaking with emotion boom over the speaker.

"That comment is not only disgusting it is absolutely the height of hubris! You are telling me that you cleared Doctor Lecter to get his help strictly for _political _gain. Therefore, you allowed him to leave the country only because if he killed someone else at least it wouldn't be an American? You still believed him to be a danger but you were not concerned he might be a threat as long as you were unleashing him on the citizens of Argentina and not the United States?"

The president stammered slightly, "That…that isn't what I meant."

"It is _precisely_ what you _meant._ This is embarrassing to you not because you went back on your word to _him_, though you it is why you _should_ be embarrassed. You are upset because you didn't think your psychologist would be so _public_ about it did you? It has become quite the public relations situation, yes?"

The president's voice was subdued, "You might say that."

Bashandi was becoming even more animated, "And though I am an interested party you did not think to call me?"

Though the president's tone was contrite, he offered no apology, "I had hoped to handle this quietly. Doctor Bloom obtained an involuntary commitment order through the court system in Maryland. There is a separation of powers. I cannot get involved until a determination has been made as to Hannibal's competency."

Angry and leaving barely a breath between them Bashandi's voice chased the president's, "I have seen the videos of Doctor Lecter's treatment, _have you_?"

"No. I haven't seen them. I've heard they exist but I have yet to review them."

Bashandi's voice was angry and indignant but it did not reflect shock, "It doesn't surprise me to hear you say that. I am certain Amnesty International will be very interested in the content of the tapes and the handling of Doctor Lecter. I cannot even count the amount of human rights violations on those tapes they are _that_ numerous. You have an extreme problem to deal with as it would seem you have a therapist running amok and touting to others that he does so under your direct orders."

The president was beginning to realize the situation had passed the point of damage control and was quickly approaching critical mass. He sought to distance himself, though there was little hope of it.

"He was asked to evaluate Doctor Lecter at my request. Although he exceeded the request he was within his right as the physician of record to seek treatment for Doctor Lecter if he deemed it appropriate or necessary. He deemed it so and sought a court ordered hospitalization. He was certain Doctor Lecter posed a threat. Although this is not the way in which I would have handled the situation, this is a free country. I don't control everything."

"Yours is a free country for everyone with the exception of Doctor Hannibal Lecter it seems. I will tell you what I deem appropriate and necessary. I am getting on a plane and I am flying to the United States the moment I hang up this phone. I am formally requesting a meeting with Doctor Lecter to which I will bring my daughter Mariyah as she and Doctor Lecter have become very attached to one another. You may or may not attend this meeting. I would assume you will not as I cannot see a political advantage to you. I do suggest you inform Doctor Bloom that I will be arriving. If I am not allowed to see Doctor Lecter, I will be most agitated and I will be most vocal. I cannot promise cooperation past that point between our nations as I am not certain what the refusal will do to the relationship between our two countries."

The president's voice reflected his worry, "You are over-reacting and I'm not certain I understand why. He is being well cared for."

Bashandi was steadfast and unwavering, "He is not being well-cared for he is being tortured, Sir. If you are unaware of the atrocities being committed in your own name, I suggest you go online and watch some of the raw footage. It is truly horrific. I am disgusted by this as I made a promise to that man. He trusted me as I _once_ trusted you. Because _you _are not afraid to be seen as a liar,_ I_ have been made one as well. I am most distressed."

The president was now beginning to understand the gravity of the situation and the political ramifications as well, "You have my apologies."

"I do not require your apologies. I require your action. Good day, Sir."

Without waiting for a response Anwar Bashandi pressed a button and disconnected the phone. He turned to his daughter. "I have a few things to finish here. Go home and pack. Ask your mother to pack a bag for me as well. Tell her we will need our passports. If she would like to accompany us, she is welcome. Tell her we are all going to America to help your friend. He did not let us down. We will not let him down."

Mariyah kissed her father. She was certain he would not rest until Doctor Lecter was free. As soon as she arrived home, she went online and emailed Clarice.

_Hi Clarice!_

_We are leaving today and coming to America. Father was very angry to hear what happened to Hannibal and called the president. He was very firm with him and told him that he would be visiting Hannibal. I'm going to go with him to the meeting. _

_I'm sorry you are both going through this. We are on the way. We won't let you down! My thoughts are with you both. _

_Hannibal's friend and yours too, _

_Mariyah_

Clarice was thrilled when she opened the email. It would take a full day for the Bashandi family to arrive. She would be ready when they did. She composed a quick message to Mariyah.

_Hey Mariyah,_

_Your father is an honorable man. Please tell him how much we appreciate his assistance. I hope your family will consider staying at our home. We have several guest bedrooms and our security system is far better than any hotel has to offer. I would consider it an honor to host you._

_I will be happy to send a car to meet you at the airport. Let me know when you are scheduled to arrive. Thanks Mariyah. Hannibal knew he could count on you!_

_Your friend,_

_Clarice_

Clarice walked to the kitchen to get a drink and to unlock the front door. Barney would be by soon and if she fell asleep, she might not hear the front door. He promised to bring Hannibal her medical records and to take back a note for her. Clarice sat quietly and composed a letter to Hannibal for Barney to take with him.

_My dearest H,_

_I signed a release to have my medical records delivered to you. Barney said he would make sure you got them and promised to bring you this note as well. I don't know what all of the information the doctor's say but I wanted you to know that I really feel much better so don't worry about me. I love you very much. _

_Ardelia said there are millions of hits on YouTube of the footage the documentary crew is filming of you. She made me promise not to watch it. I really want to see it if only to see you but she says it's too much for me to handle. _

_I'm not sure what I should do. I may watch it anyway. If you remember what you told me about staying by your sister's side, you should understand why I've got to watch it. I need to be with you, even if you can't feel it. I need to share this with you H. _

_She told me you're being subjected to horrible things. You're in pain and it's my fault you're going through this. I'm sorry you are alone physically. Please remember that I'm with you always. I close my eyes at night and feel your arms around me as I sleep. I hope you can feel my love for you too. _

_H, I'm so sorry. I wish I never asked you to come back here. We were so happy in Argentina. I know I said that I wanted to be around my friends while I had the baby but now all I want is to be with you. When you come back to me, I don't care where we live. Just know that I'll never let you go._

_All my strength and all of my love I send to you my dear husband. You are the one love of my life._

_I am forever yours,_

_Clarice_

Clarice printed the note and signed her name to the bottom along with some hearts to make him smile. She then did a quick search on YouTube for any videos tagged Hannibal Lecter. There were several hits. She opened the first to see her husband being led into a room. The view was from behind Hannibal and over his shoulder. She could hear his voice asking about the machine in the corner.

_Sine-wave? What the…oh no…no please not that_…

Clarice watched in horror as her husband was strapped to the table and trussed up with electrodes.

_Give him a sedative you son of a bitch. Give him something goddamn it!_

When it became obvious that Hannibal was going to be shocked without any medication at all Clarice began to sob uncontrollably.

Barney heard the noise and ran into the kitchen to see Clarice staring at the monitor with tears pouring down her face. She was gasping for breath.

Barney reached for the laptop and just as Bloom prepared to through the switch and engage the current, Barney shut the laptop.

"Sorry Clarice…he would never forgive me if I let you watch this." Barney took the laptop and placed it under his arm, "I'm taking this with me. I'll bring it back in the morning with your note from Hannibal so you can check your email. Where's your cell phone?"

"On the counter."

"I'll be taking that with me as well. I'll have Ardelia forward all your calls to your home phone. I'm sorry if your pissed at me, Clarice but with your health the way it is…you'd be taking a chance with the baby's life and I owe your husband too much to allow you to take chances. Don't forget, he put me in charge of your health. I take that real serious, you know."

Clarice wiped the tears from her face, "I know Barney…I know."

Barney collected Clarice's medical files, her cell phone and her laptop.

"Clarice, I'll come by every morning and every night so you can go online and check all of your messages but I can't leave the equipment here. I know how you are when it comes to Hannibal. You'll go right back on line as soon as I leave. Sorry, Clarice. I promised."

Barney took the file and all of the equipment.

Clarice waited until she was sure Barney was gone. She checked the front door, making sure to lock it. She then went to Hannibal's study and took his laptop out of the case. Setting it up quickly on his desk she pulled up the site, held her breath and pressed play.

Clarice cried herself to sleep that night.

Hannibal spent the night reviewing her medical records. Both found sleep with worried thoughts of the other, unaware of the events massive chain of events that were about to unfold.

The Bashandi's were on the way. The president was calling an emergency meeting of his staff to discuss the case, the documentarians were editing and Doctor Bloom was oblivious to the nightmare he would awake to.

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Happy New Year my friends! Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter, **

**LH**

e


	99. Chapter 99

**LOGAN'S RULES**

**CLARICE**

Clarice woke with a renewed purpose. She decided that no matter what else happened, she would see her husband today. She called the duplex to talk to Ardelia. Logan answered.

"Logan's whore house, first served first come!"

Clarice was not surprised at Logan's salutation. He always answered the phone with one ridiculous joke or another. It was his own unique brand of rhetorical stupidity but his creativity always made her laugh as she responded, "Hey, Logan, is Dee home?"

"Nope, she got called in last minute. What's up?"

Clarice paced the kitchen as she spoke and was actually relieved Ardelia was not there to talk her out of her idea. She believed Logan might be more amenable after all he always wanted to see Hannibal. "Nothing much…I wanted to see Hannibal and I hoped she might help out. I'm not allowed to drive yet so I'd need a ride. If the prison denies me, maybe Pearsall could get me in."

"Fuck Pearsall. You want to see my buddy, I'll pick you up and I'll get you in but you gotta follow my rules if I'm bringing you in. Hannibal will have my ass in a sling if you don't. I can't take chances with you and that baby. My buddy will gut me if anything happens to you on my watch."

Clarice leaned against the counter. She was agreeable as long as his conditions weren't unreasonable. She was halfway there. Her heart raced as she asked, "What rules?"

"You go in a wheel chair. No walking _at all_. Got it?"

Clarice spoke softly into the phone as she attempted to verbally nudge him from his suggestion. She appealed to his masculine pride, "Logan come on, a wheelchair? It can't be _that_ far to walk and _you'll_ be with me."

Logan was unusually adamant, "Wheelchair or no Hannibal, that's my only offer. Take it or leave it?"

Clarice grumbled, "Of course I'll take it."

"Okay I'll go pick up a wheelchair at the medical supply company and I'll put a call in to the prison to give them the heads up that I'm bringing you in. Give me two hours."

Clarice sat at the table and leaned her head on her palm, the weight of her next question burdening her, "What if they say no at the prison?"

Logan's voice lost its usual playfulness and took on an authoritative tone, "I'm not _asking_ them _if_ I can bring you in. I'm _telling_ them I _am_ bringing you in. Where you and Hannibal are concerned…I'm not taking no for an answer. You get ready and trust me…I've _got_ this, Clarice."

"Thanks Logan, I really appreciate it."

"No thanks necessary, Clarice," Logan laughed nervously as he considered the covert operation they were planning. He predicted Hannibal's reaction with a combination of amusement and playful foreboding.

"He's gonna be pissed at us both, you know that, right?"

Clarice tempered his concern, "He'll only be pissed for a minute then he'll be happy to see me. Don't worry, he won't blame you. H knows how I can be when I want to see him."

Logan shrugged off his worry, "Whatever…he'll get over it. I'll text you as soon as I'm outside."

"You can't. Barney took my phone and my laptop. Just pull up and hit the horn. I'll come right out."`

"Was he trying to keep you off the internet?"

"I guess that was his intention."

"Did he remember Hannibal's laptop?"

"Nope."

"Barney is a great guy but he isn't devious enough to keep up with the likes of us. See you soon, Clarice."

"Yeah he's too trusting. Thanks Logan."

Logan made a few calls and soon had the warden on the phone. He explained he would be bringing Clarice in for a special visitation and asked that arrangements be made for a private room.

The warden was agreeable thinking something should be done about Hannibal's treatment but assumed it was beyond his own pay grade.

The warden spoke directly, "Being that Doctor Lecter is not an inmate he is not subject to the same procedures as a prisoner would be. If Mrs. Lecter wants to see her husband, I'm all for it. It's that crazy fucking psychiatrist that I have no control over. You'll have to handle him when you get here. Doctor Bloom will probably have Hannibal in treatment at that time. I'll just go pull him out."

Logan wasn't worried, "Don't concern yourself with that freak show I can handle him. Hell, I'll kick down a door and break his twisted little spine if I have to."

"Trust me, Agent Marley, I'd pay to see that. When you get here we can direct Mrs. Lecter to a waiting room where she can meet with her husband. I won't let you bring her to him because that sick little son of a bitch who calls himself a doctor has some really fucked up ideas about what constitutes therapy. I don't think she should see any of that. Don't worry. I'll handle Doctor Bloom."

"Yeah…I appreciate that, thanks."

It didn't take Logan long to arrive in front of Clarice and Hannibal's home.

Clarice ran outside as soon as she saw Logan's pickup in front of the house. True to his word, lashed securely on the bed of the pickup, was a brand new wheelchair.

Logan, knowing Hannibal would never let Clarice enter a vehicle unassisted, jumped out of the driver's side and ran around to the passenger side of the truck.

"Allow me, Mrs. Lecter," he bowed graciously at the waist as he opened the door and helped her in.

Clarice took his hand and laughed as she climbed in, "Logan, I swear you are such an ass!"

"Hey, my buddy would _kick_ my ass if I let you get in my truck and I didn't help you. It'd be an insult to him. I don't respect a hell of a lot of people but I respect the hell out of him."

"Thanks, Logan. You've always been a great friend to us both."

"You be sure to remind him of that later 'cuz I know he's gonna be plenty pissed that I'm bringing you in. Even though it was never _actually specified_ not to bring you in, we all just assumed we shouldn't."

They drove to the prison with Clarice pumping Logan for every bit of information she could think to ask. Logan told her what he could but the FBI was being kept out of the loop.

"Bloom's really freelancing with this, Clarice. Pearsall's got no clue. He just got called to a meeting at the White House and he's shitting kittens over it. Nobody can do a thing because of the court order. Bloom's got your husband for another ten days and there's nothing anyone can do because Hannibal fired the first one and refused to call another attorney."

Clarice knew this decision was more deliberate than stubborn, "H wants to be cleared so he doesn't have to go through this again and he doesn't want anybody to say a lawyer got him off. I get all of that I just think Hannibal hates the man so much he's going to real extremes here with Bloom. He's letting him get away with too much. That little shit didn't need this much encouragement." Clarice didn't mean to let on as much as she did. She was just so nervous about seeing Hannibal she was talking out loud and didn't consider Logan's presence.

"What do you mean he didn't need encouragement? It's not like Hannibal planned it. Bloom's the one taking things to the extreme, not Hannibal."

"No, I meant Bloom. That man is just crazy is all." Clarice couldn't let on that Hannibal was influencing Bloom's behavior.

_Watch what you say, Clarice. A wrong word and you ruin everything Hannibal is sacrificing for._

Pulling up next to the prison, they parked and Logan got the wheelchair out. He opened the passenger door and helped Clarice into the chair. He then wheeled her up to the entrance. Both were surprised when they were swarmed by reporters.

"Clarice! Clarice! What do you think about the videos of your husband? Have you seen what they're doing to him in there?"

Clarice nodded, "I've seen it. That's why I'm here."

Another reporter edged out the first, "Mrs. Lecter…do you think your husband is insane or is this some kind of a conspiracy against him?"

Clarice maintained her outward calm though it was becoming difficult, "My husband is the without any doubt the most sane man I have ever met. He is handling himself with grace and dignity and I'm very proud to be his wife."

The first reporter, from a very well-known national cable news channel, barked another question, "Clarice…Hannibal is becoming somewhat of a celebrity…the videos online are getting millions of views. What do you think about that?"

Logan pointed to the microphone and then the camera and calmly asked the reporter, "Hey…is this news feed going out live?"

"Yes, it's live." When the reporter turned the microphone to Clarice, Logan ripped it from the reporter's hand, turned and spoke very directly into the camera.

"Hey all of you lazy bastards sitting on your backsides watching my friend's torment and not doing anything about it, why the hell don't you come down here with a couple of signs and tell the government what you think. It's your goddamned tax money paying for it. He's being tortured on your dime and you are all watching it from the safety of your homes and forwarding it to your friends? You should be fucking ashamed of yourselves!"

Logan shoved the microphone back at the reporter, "Now get the fuck out of my way so my friend can see her husband."

Logan shoved the wheelchair past the astonished journalists and directly into the entrance of the prison.

"Thanks, Logan…H will laugh his ass off if that makes the news."

"Hell, it's the least I could do. They're such fucking bloodsuckers! I'd kick the shit out of them if I didn't think Dee would kill me."

They entered the building and when the officials saw it was Clarice, Logan was immediately directed to bring her to a private room normally designated for attorneys to meet with their clients. There was a table in the center of the room bolted to the floor. The table had two chair welded to the base.

**HANNIBAL**

Bloom was questioning Hannibal when the warden of the prison interrupted.

"Excuse me Doctor Bloom but Doctor Lecter has a scheduled interview with an agent from the FBI. We will need to escort him to a private room for the meeting."

"Doctor Lecter is not entitled to private meetings," Bloom complained.

"Although Doctor Lecter is not an actual inmate he is a resident in my prison and as such _I _will decide what he is and is not entitled to. I agreed to host you because I am aware Doctor Lecter's celebrity and his past status presents certain…challenges, but if you attempt to interrupt the process I will have you removed immediately. The Agent in question was very adamant and I'm sure would take your attempts to obstruct his interview very seriously."

Bloom huffed and waved his arm dismissing the warden, "Fine, I was finished with him anyway! Take him wherever you want. I have no need of him now."

Hannibal was confused by the interruption but said nothing as they lead him from the room. They walked briskly to the same meeting room where Hannibal fired his attorney. The warden pointed, directing the guards to remove Hannibal's handcuffs.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow as if questioning the action. The warden explained, "You have a guest, Doctor Lecter, whom I believe you would like to face without restraint."

Hannibal's nostrils flared. _It can't be…she wouldn't._

The warden opened the door. Hannibal rubbed his wrists to return the circulation and craned his neck to see within the room. He spotted Logan, and though he believed he could smell Clarice he assumed his senses were being affected by his want to see her. He guessed that Logan was his visitor and extended a hand in greeting, "Hello, my friend. To what do I owe the visit?"

"I played chauffeur for the day. I hope you don't mind." Logan stepped to the side and allowed Hannibal to pass him and fully enter the room.

As Hannibal moved into the room unrestricted, the members of the camera crew, already aware of what was happening, jockeyed for position.

Hannibal stood stock still in the center of the room with his back to Clarice. Without first turning to face her he smiled widely, "Hello, my Love."

Clarice was relieved to hear the warmth in his voice, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"I have never been better, Clarice."

"Don't you lie to me H…I've seen some things."

"I wish you had not," he commented as he rushed to her side and took a knee in front of her. Hannibal wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her burgeoning belly. As was his custom when he wanted to tease Clarice Hannibal bent close and spoke to the baby.

"Hello Little One, mother should be home in bed waiting you to arrive. Instead she has convinced your Uncle Logan to drag her down her to see me. She worries too much for me and not enough for herself."

Logan smiled at the familial appellation given him.

"Hey, Uncle Logan does what he's told. Clarice wants to visit, Uncle Logan makes it happen."

Hannibal, still kneeling before her, kissed her belly. He then reached up and whispered to her, "I've seen your medical file. My diagnosis was correct. You should be home resting."

"Don't be upset, H…I needed to see you. I've missed you. I'd ask about your treatment but I've seen it firsthand."

"We spoke of this…You understand, do you not? This is precisely what I expected."

"Knowing you expected that abuse doesn't make it any easier to watch, H."

"I imagine not. Please know that it is nothing I cannot handle, Clarice."

"I've seen it all…it would kill most men."

"I am not most men."

"I know and I love you for it."

"I love you as well."

Hannibal turned to the warden. "Sir, I am unfamiliar with the protocol of a contact visit. My previous incarceration disallowed it. May I hold my wife? May I kiss her?"

Logan shot a quick look at the warden, "You know what your answer better be, right?"

"The agent assures me that you are not a security risk, Doctor Lecter. You may feel free."

Hannibal glanced at the cameras, turned and locked eyes with Clarice, "My apologies that this is so…public, my Love." He held out a hand helping her to stand.

She rushed into his embrace and rested her head on his chest, "I don't care if the whole world watches, H, I needed to feel you. I needed to be sure you were okay."

"Now that you are here, I am much more than okay."

Hannibal wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her tightly to him. She reached up and smoothed her hands up and down his arms, across his chest, over his shoulders up and down his back.

Hannibal smiled, "Are you checking me for injuries or is this romantic in nature?"

"Is there some reason it can't be both?"

"Hmmm, I suppose not."

Hannibal cupped her face in his hands and began to kiss his wife very tenderly. As the kiss deepened, Hannibal suddenly pulled back.

"What's wrong, H?"

"I do not wish to disrespect you, Clarice…the cameras."

Logan took the cue and began waving his arms and herding people toward the door.

"Okay, Doctor Lecter has shared just about enough with the world up to this point so I think from this point on he can handle his wife without benefit of an audience." Logan shoved people through the doorway until everyone was gone but the warden. Logan poked him in the shoulder and ushered him toward the door.

"You too, my friend, there's no other exit out of this room and he isn't going to hurt his wife so we can just give him a little space. I'll guard the door. Everyone else can wait until they've had a bit of privacy."

Logan turned to Hannibal and spoke softly, "You take your time in there. There are no cameras and there are no listening devices. Trust me when I say no one is coming through this door if they want to keep breathing, so you enjoy a little quiet time together. When you want me to open it, knock three times and I'll let you out."

Hannibal placed a grateful hand on Logan's shoulder, "Thank you, Logan."

Logan closed the door and stepped in front of it folding his huge arms proudly across his chest.

A wide smile stretched across his face as he announced boastfully, "Now let's see just who is dumb enough to fuck with Uncle Logan."

Just as Logan settled against the door, Doctor Bloom came storming around the corner.

Logan flexed his muscles and smiled, "Oh, please…please give me a reason you son of a bitch!"

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! **

**Happy New Year to all of my fan fic friends!**

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	100. Chapter 100

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**KICKING THE HORNET'S NEST**

Hannibal led Clarice to a couch against the wall supporting her body by reaching around her waist and holding her very close to him. As they approached the furniture, Hannibal turned her gently toward him and lowered her very slowly until she was fully seated. He then kissed her hand before taking his place beside her.

Clarice cuddled against him, drawing her legs beneath her. Now in his arms, she was tranquil, "Thanks, H. You're so sweet. People don't know how sweet you can be."

"If I am indeed _sweet,_ it is only with you, Clarice, therefore there is no need for others _to_ know." Hannibal teased as he settled against Clarice and cushioned her body with his.

"Still, it might help your case. It isn't as if sociopaths are thoughtful. You are."

"I am thoughtful or I am a sociopath?"

Clarice slapped her hand playfully across his chest, "Thoughtful, you wise ass!"

"Ah, yes, I am thoughtful _and_ sweet."

He then put his left arm around her, cupping her shoulder and pulling her to him. With his right, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers within hers. His head was low as he continually smoothed his thumb over her hand, concentrating on the sensations as the pad of his thumb passed over her soft skin. He was especially serene as took advantage of this brief respite.

"You really should not have come, Clarice. My focus becomes somewhat compromised when I see you. I soften when I must remain firm."

"I'm sorry, H. You know how I get when I want to see you. Are you mad at me?" Clarice questioned as she rested her head on his chest. She listened to his heart beat and waited for his answer; she loved to hear the rumble of his rich voice as it echoed within his body.

"I am not angry, my Love. I realize how difficult this has been for you. I have asked much of you during the course of our marriage."

"I can't bear to see you in pain."

"That is why I hoped you would stay away. I was certain this situation would cause you to suffer. You must understand that I am not like most people as I am able to fully abrogate pain. I realize it is a concept that is difficult to grasp. You are assuming I am experiencing a very high level of pain when in fact I am feeling only minor discomfort."

"I don't see how that's possible."

"I am able to remove myself from the situation and transport myself, within my mind to another place or time. As such, I am not present to experience the discomfort."

Clarice began to nuzzle Hannibal's neck, "You may not be present to experience the pain but don't pretend you can't feel the aftereffects. You must be pretty damned uncomfortable."

"I will admit to being a bit sore. I also would have preferred a more substantial mouthpiece during the electroconvulsive therapy as my jaw is somewhat strained from clenching down. Other than that, there have been no ill effects. Have you had any additional pain or bleeding?"

"No, I've been fine. No worries."

"I will always worry, Clarice."

Clarice released Hannibal's hand and reached up to his face causing him to look down.

"Clarice?"

"If you don't mind I'd like a kiss, H."

Hannibal smiled, "I'm sorry my Love. You should not have had to ask."

Hannibal lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to Clarice's. For several minutes their lips touched and released. It was an alluring dance; an ebb and flow of tender caresses, very gently lighting their lips, one on the other's, much like a butterfly would flutter along a bed of flowers briefly touching on each though never landing.

Hannibal very gently brushed his lips against hers, the contact so slight, the pressure so delicate so placid it made her heart race. Clarice soon grew impatient and sought his mouth with much more intention.

Hannibal withdrew slightly signaling disapproval. He paused for a moment then continued to kiss her. The contact was so delicate and far more serene than anything to which she was accustomed.

The difference was so pronounced Clarice pulled back, her voice filled with concern for him, "H? Am I leaning on you wrong? Are you uncomfortable?"

Hannibal spoke softly as he sought her lips once more and between tender touches, he answered, "Quite comfortable."

"You don't want to kiss me?"

Again, in between kisses he offered, "I was under the impression that I _was_ kissing you, Clarice."

She shifted to seek his eyes, "We don't normally kiss like this."

Hannibal remained distracted as devoted his full attention to his lips gently seeking hers, "Don't we?"

"Well, we start out this way but it always…you're normally much more…aggressive."

"Yes, that may be, however that leads to much more physical contact than is possible here. I am attempting to express my love for you physically in a way that allows me to restrain myself."

"I can…you know…take care of you but I can't really bend, you would have to stand in front of me."

Hannibal nosed along the inside of her neck and placed whispers of kisses the length of her throat.

"No, thank you Clarice, I wouldn't ask that of you. Not here."

Clarice nuzzled against her husband, reached down and began to touch him. Hannibal stayed her movement causing her to question, "Are you sure? I mean, it's been a while."

He continued to hold her hand as he whispered, "For you as well, my Love."

"Yeah, but, men are different."

"We are not so very different."

"H?"

"Just be with me, Clarice."

Clarice settled against her husband and within moments fell asleep listening to the strong beat of his heart.

Hannibal immediately recognized the change in her breathing as it deepened and slowed.

_Tired my Love? You are not sleeping well, either? Perhaps our friend will allow us some time._

Hannibal rested his head atop his wife's and, deciding Logan would tolerate an hour's wait, closed his eyes, held his wife close and drifted slowly to sleep.

**UNCLE LOGAN**

Logan shifted in front of the door but would not allow Bloom to pass.

"Step aside young man," Bloom ordered boldly.

"I'm not a young man, I'm a grown man and I'm not stepping aside. Hannibal has a visitor."

"He's not entitled to visitors. I only allowed him to be taken from me because I was told he was having a meeting with an FBI agent. I just saw the news. He's not in there with an agent!"

"He is meeting with Special Agent Clarice Starling right now."

"She's no longer an active agent. She's his wife. What do you take me for, a fool?"

"Hey you're just saying what everyone's thinking!" Logan quipped.

Bloom grabbed Logan's arm and attempted to pull him from the doorway. Logan set his feet and his jaw.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Clarice may not be an active agent but _I am_. That's my friend in there and if you try to get past me, I'll warn you using her favorite phrase_, whatever part of your body touches mine, I'm gonna keep!_"

Bloom was not amused. He leaned his shoulder into Logan and tried to shove him from his position. Logan reached down, grabbed Bloom under his arms, lifted him and tossed him away from the door as if passing a basketball.

"Keep away from this door little man or I'll smack that stupid look off your face. You aren't going in there. That man hasn't had a minute's peace in ten days now. You'd better back up or I swear to Christ I'll go medieval on you."

Bloom turned to the officers on duty, "Someone needs to get this man out of here he is interfering with an Executive Order."

Logan backed against the door and laughed at Bloom's pathetic attempts to remove him. Bloom looked like a toddler as he pushed and shoved even turning and pushing with his back to seek more leverage.

When it became obvious he could not move Logan he continued to push but also began to whine, "I have been assigned this task by the president. I will notify the White House if I don't receive the respect and the cooperation I am due."

Logan shoved Bloom off him, "Why don't we call the White House right now. I happen to know that Deputy Director Pearsall is meeting with the president within the hour. They'll be talking about you my friend and from what I hear, the president isn't too pleased with the way you've handled my boy in there! You might just be pretty screwed about now."

Bloom stepped back and stared at Logan.

"Who told you Pearsall was going to the White House?"

"Nobody had to tell me. I was in his office when the call came in. He was freaking out totally."

"Why wasn't I notified?"

"Well, I assume it's because they're going to be talking about you, you stupid son of a bitch."

Bloom backed up and reached into his pocket withdrawing a hand held Taser. He activated the charge and stepped forward extending the weapon obviously intending to use it to move Logan.

"Dude…I _seriously_ would rethink that," Logan warned.

"You _will_ move," Bloom warned, "or I will use this to move you."

"You are about to get that shoved straight up your pompous ass! _Please_ come try it…Dude I am fucking _begging _you to come try it."

Bloom stepped forward, his face determined as he chewed on his lower lip. He surged, attempting to hit Logan with the charge.

Logan stepped to the side, grabbed the wrist of the hand that held the weapon, turned his arm down and running it behind Bloom, Taser still in hand, forced Bloom to electrify his backside.

Bloom squealed as he fell to the ground and scrambled away from his own weapon.

Laughing at the sight of the man quivering on the floor Logan leaned toward him and cupped his hand alongside his ear as if straining to hear something. "Hey, Bloom…can you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Bloom whimpered rubbing his bottom as he stood on shaking legs.

"That sound…it's your pathetic fucking career swirling down the toilet!"

Bloom cried out his own misery and insecurities, "I am making an important study of Hannibal Lecter. I am testing him to see whether or not he poses a threat to the public or to his child. You have no right to stand in my way."

"Dude, _you_ have no right and the only person that poses a threat to Clarice and Hannibal's kid is you. So when he gets out of here, maybe _Doctor_ Hannibal Lecter will make an important study of _your_ brain because it's obviously totally fucked."

Bloom stood and reached for the Taser. The warden wagged his finger at him.

"No you don't. You just leave that right where it is."

Embarrassed and still in some pain, Bloom paced in a circle, testing his muscles. His voice was that of a wounded child, "I refuse to waste any more of my time talking. If there is indeed a meeting at the White House, I intend to be there. When the monster is through with his bride, someone just toss him back in his cage. I have an important meeting with the President."

"Man, showing up to that meeting will be a mistake," Logan warned. "They aren't going to let you in so you should just save yourself the embarrassment."

"We'll see."

Bloom signaled to the camera operators for them to follow him. They glanced to the producer and she nodded, holding up one finger. One operator followed Bloom, the other two stayed.

"That dumb son of a bitch is going to look really stupid." Logan folded his arms across his chest, obviously very pleased he had been able to protect his friends. Smiling widely he leaned against the door, "_Damn_, I wish I was there to see it."

**THE WHITE HOUSE**

The President and the most trusted members of his staff were already assembled when Pearsall arrived. The car sent for him had been stuck in traffic causing Pearsall to be glad he hadn't driven himself. He was escorted into a large briefing room and introductions were quickly made but he was so overwhelmed he couldn't have named a one of them is his life depended on it. He took the only seat left and waited for someone to direct a question to him. The president spoke first.

"Deputy Director Pearsall, are you familiar with Doctor Hannibal Lecter?"

Pearsall considered his answer carefully. "Yes, Mr. President. I was his wife's supervisor when she was an active agent. We have remained friends."

The President pursued, "So, you're friends with Clarice and Hannibal or just Clarice?"

"I would call Hannibal Lecter my friend as well," Pearsall added with confidence.

The Secretary of State spoke frankly, "Mr. Pearsall, we have a bit of a situation on our hands. You know who Anwar Bashandi is?"

"Yes, I became familiar with him during the time his daughter was abducted."

"And you also dealt with Hannibal Lecter at that time?" the president inquired.

"Yes."

The Secretary of State leaned forward, "Mr. Pearsall, Anwar Bashandi is arriving in the next couple of hours. We attempted to arrange for him to stay either in a hotel or at the White House but he has refused."

Pearsall was confused, "Where is he staying?"

"He has accepted the invitation of Mrs. Lecter and will be staying at their home in Baltimore."

Pearsall nodded, "Well, he'll be safe there. I've never seen a more advanced security system. Hannibal takes Clarice's safety very seriously."

The president nodded, "No doubt. Our problem is that Bashandi sees my request for additional information on Doctor Lecter to be…less than honest. He has requested a meeting and although I have been invited to attend, I think it would be best if I not involve myself directly."

Pearsall was still very confused. "I'm not certain how this involves me. I was asked to pass the information to Bloom, I did so. I was asked to have Lecter volunteer himself for this evaluation. I did. What else do you need me for?"

The president leaned back in his chair, "I'd like you to use a car we provide to pick up Anwar Bashandi and his family and bring them, along with Clarice Starling to the prison."

"She's Clarice Lecter now," Pearsall corrected.

"Yes, of course. Will you handle that for me?" the president requested.

"Certainly, I'd be glad to. What are you going to do about Bloom? He isn't going to voluntarily allow us access to Lecter."

"We are going to have to be delicate about the way we handle Bloom. The news feeds have been killing us. That documentary is absolute poison if we don't make the right moves now."

Pearsall nodded, "What time does the Bashandi family arrive?"

The Secretary of State checked her notes. "They will arrive at Dulles Airport at twelve noon. We will send a car for you at nine-thirty. You will proceed to pick up Clarice, then on to Dulles to meet with the Bashandi's."

Pearsall's eyes were searching as he processed the details, "Does Clarice know?"

The president shook his head. "Not yet. We've been informed she's visiting her husband at the prison now. We'll rely on you to inform her. You and she have a good relationship so she trusts you."

"Mr. President, what are you going to do about Bloom?" Pearsall again inquired.

The Chief of Staff joined the conversation, "We'll occupy him during the meeting but we can't involve ourselves beyond that. He's got a court order. Only Lecter could have stopped this. We were hoping he would get his lawyer on it. Christ knows he had grounds to get the whole thing thrown out. I have no idea why a man as intelligent as he is absorbing that treatment."

Pearsall shook his head, "Hannibal wants to be fully cleared. He doesn't want anyone questioning his sanity beyond this. He's got a baby on the way and Bloom wanted to have the kid taken from them."

The president was adamant, "I had nothing to do with that."

Pearsall shook his head, "No maybe not, but once you let a wild dog loose, you have no control over what it does. He's gone off the reservation, I don't know why but he really believes he's on high moral ground here."

The body language of the Chief of Staff was rigid and showed his concern, "We want Hannibal cleared and we have some input but we can't control what the court does."

"You'd better hope that Hannibal _is _cleared. I'll attest to his sanity all the way up to the moment someone tries to take his son from his wife's arms. If that happens, that man will go absolutely insane just like any new father would and I doubt you want that all over the six o'clock news."

The president nodded, "There's nothing about this situation I want on the six o'clock news but it's been splashed all over every network. You help me find a way out of this and you might find yourself in a much better state of employment. Not all government jobs are thankless."

Pearsall shook his head, "Mr. President, I'm not looking for another job and the only people I want to help right now are Hannibal and Clarice."

The door to the conference room opened quickly and an aide stepped in.

"There is a Doctor Bloom at the main gate flashing credentials and demanding to be seen."

The Chief of Staff stood and excused himself, "I'll handle this, Mr. President."

Bloom sat in his car fuming with the cameras rolling.

The Chief of Staff made his way to the car and tapped on the driver's side window. Bloom lowered it.

"Doctor Bloom, the meeting has been rescheduled. The President will see you here at noon tomorrow. There is no need for you to drive. We will send a car for you. Please bring all of your files on Doctor Lecter with you and all the video. The President would like to be fully briefed."

"Will the cameras be allowed? I will not entertain any conversations about Doctor Lecter unless the cameras are documenting the process."

The Chief of Staff smiled. He had hoped Bloom would make that request.

"The President has nothing to hide. The cameras will be allowed."

Bloom was arrogant and bold, "Inform the President that I will indeed be prepared."

Bloom was directed to the exit and left the White House with an overinflated ego and plans to have Hannibal Lecter's treatments screened by the President himself.

The President had other plans. He would have a member of the Justice Department at that meeting to review all of the material on Hannibal's treatment. He would also have the Surgeon General invite an independent and well-respected psychiatrist to the meeting to review Lecter's testing.

Bloom had no way of knowing that his time with Hannibal Lecter was coming to a close but his time with the Justice Department was just beginning.

**HANNIBAL AND CLARICE**

Two hours later, Hannibal opened his eyes. There was no natural light in the room, but his internal clock told him more than an hour had passed. He very gently nudged Clarice awake.

"Clarice, Logan has been waiting patiently."

Clarice rubbed her eyes as she stirred awake, "Sorry, H…I've missed you in bed in more ways than one, I guess."

Hannibal stood and led her to stand as well. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed his wife a final time. They walked together to the door and knocked. Logan very slowly opened it.

Clarice emerged, "Sorry Logan. I fell asleep."

"No problem. It's no one's business what you were doing," he added with a wink.

Hannibal walked forward and shook Logan's hand. "Thank you for bringing my wife to me, Logan. I needed her more than I knew."

Logan slapped a hand on Hannibal's back, "Dude, anything for you my friend. Just ask…anything."

The journalist moved in with the camera. She couldn't help get a word or two from Logan. He had no idea what his words, just two hours earlier, had set into motion.

"Your name is Logan Marley?" she questioned as Hannibal surrendered to be handcuffed.

Logan was distracted, "Dude, don't make those too tight. He's got a scar on that left hand. Be cool."

Logan returned his attention to the journalist, "Yeah, Marley…Logan Marley," he laughed at his own James Bond impression.

"Are you truly a friend of Doctor Lecter's?"

"Hell yes. He's my brother from another mother!" Logan laughed. He turned toward Hannibal and called out to him, "Hey Hannibal! We are buddies right? Tell the reporter. She doesn't believe me!"

Hannibal smiled, "Yes, Logan has been a very true and loyal friend."

Clarice ran to Hannibal as the cuffs were tightened. "There's a meeting with the Bashandi's tomorrow. I'll be there." She kissed him very tenderly, holding his face in her hands. As they separated, her eyes began to tear.

Hannibal quickly turned from her.

"Logan, please escort Clarice home and make certain she activates the security system before you depart."

"Don't worry Hannibal, I will. I promise."

The journalist smiled, "Officers could you walk Doctor Lecter by a window before you bring him back to his cell. He might be interested in what a few comments by his _brother_ generated."

The warden looked out the window to the large area just outside the gates of the prison, "Holy shit, are you kidding me? Bring Doctor Lecter to the window."

Hannibal was led to the window. He was amazed to see hundreds of people gathering, some were waving signs. Clarice ran to her husband's side and peered out at the crowd.

The shock in her voice mirrored his feelings, "Oh my God, H…there's gotta be close to a thousand people out there."

"Not as many as that but an impressive number no doubt," he commented.

The journalist, not sure of Hannibal, approached him carefully and directed the microphone to him.

"Doctor Lecter, is there anything you would like to say to your new friends? No doubt by tomorrow there will be many, many more. It has been announced that the Bashandi family will arrive tomorrow."

Hannibal was humbled by the attention, "I can only offer my most sincere thanks. I am quite honestly speechless."

Logan jumped in front of the camera and grabbed the microphone once again. "Dude, that's some democratic shit right there! Way to kick some ass my people!"

Mimicking Al Pacino in the movie Dog Day Afternoon, Logan started pacing furiously and pumped his fist but instead of the expected, Attica! Attica! As the cameras focused on the animated agent, Logan chanted, "HANNIBAL! HANNIBAL! HANNIBAL!"

Doctor Bloom spent the rest of the evening assembling all of his information on Hannibal Lecter. He was so absorbed in his own self-importance that he did not turn on the television.

The president was watching both the news coverage and the opinion polls, the Bashandi's were on a plane heading to America and Doctor Alan Bloom was fully unaware that the hornet's nest he had been kicking with seeming impunity would soon burst open.

**HAPPY NEW YEAR MY FAN FIC FRIENDS! I couldn't let the year pass without posting Chapter 100!**

**Hope you enjoyed it! Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say HI!**

**Until the next chapter my friends! **

**LH**


	101. Chapter 101

**BRIEF RESPITE**

Hannibal was returned to his cell much earlier than he had become accustomed. This allowed him the opportunity to relax on his bunk and ponder the events that had begun to unfold.

_Logan has generated a level of participation that I had not fully anticipated. A degree of public backlash was expected, but the actual physical participation of protestors is an interesting development. I am quite certain the president will not sleep as soundly when he sees the news coverage this night!_

Hannibal rested his head, folded his hands on his chest and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply. The scent of Clarice was rich on his body and he was enjoying the olfactory stimulation immensely.

_What are you doing now, my Love? No doubt you are on the drive home and your mind is filled with thoughts of me. Know that I am thinking of you as well._

As Hannibal relished her still rich scent he allowed himself the brief enjoyment of reliving her hands on his body seeking to comfort him and bring him relief. The additional thought of Clarice's body resting against his own caused him to respond physically. Normally he would not have considered that a problem but the camera trained directly on his bunk presented him with a bit of a situation.

_I can't have them see me hard for you, Clarice. I must shift my attentions elsewhere._

To shift from the sexual to the entertaining Hannibal thought he would enjoy revisiting the killings of Emilia and Nico. Emilia's was especially pleasurable. He had never killed while unclothed and found it to be an especially visceral experience. Not sexual in nature, but extremely primal and as such, very, very enjoyable.

As his thoughts shifted to the shower he could feel the heat of the water pulsing against his flesh. He stood very quietly as Emilia moved toward him, a look of want in her eyes. She reached for the drawstring of the scrub pants and lowered them. Hannibal had stepped to the back of the shower, preventing her from seeing his body. The angle he took too prevented her from seeing the key he had fashioned. She could not see him unlock the cuffs and was unaware that now free, nothing prevented him from attacking.

_CLOSER…CLOOOSER…_

Hannibal remembered his words of warning. He had asked her to respect Clarice. He warned her that he was married and as such, his body was for his wife alone. As a former lover, he might have let her live. For a time their sexual relationship had been entertaining as such, he had not held her want of him against her. He too, did not hold her nature against her. He _would_ hold her disrespect of Clarice against her.

Emilia believed that because they had been lovers previously, that she was entitled to handle his body in this intimate fashion as if they were still lovers. She refused to respect his physical privacy and found his desire to remain true to Clarice both quaint and amusing.

Hannibal found crushing her windpipe and snapping her brittle neck quaint and equally amusing.

Hannibal allowed himself to revel in the sense memory of the cartilaginous structures caving in as he pressed against her throat. He compared the rapturous sensation of holding her body against him as she twitched out her last convulsive moments on this earth, to the last time he held her in orgasm so many years before. Though he had always taken great pride in his ability to bring a woman to completion, contemplating his _own_ satisfaction with both experiences, Hannibal Lecter decidedly preferred the previous to the latter.

Hannibal then indulged in the evisceration of Nico. He relished the moment he tore the still throbbing heart from his tormentor's lecherous body. He imagined the tactile sensations of the warm, bleeding organ as it pulsed out its last few beats in his grasp. He had offered it to Clarice, but she lovingly declined.

_Ah, well…the organ was too vile for my Love to handle. In any event the expression on his face the moment I tore that black heart from his hollowed ribs was very fulfilling. Why did I not rip the cardiac muscle to shreds with my teeth while his addled brain still possessed enough blood to process my pleasure? I should have chewed the life from it and spat the remains back in his face._

_I have taken four lives over these last months. The demise of Stuart Miggs had been very fulfilling as well. Now there is Bloom. His death will be equally fulfilling. _

**THE TAPE**

Logan took the task of escorting Clarice for Hannibal very seriously. He walked with her into the home and stood beside her as she prepared to disarm the security system.

She paused, "That's funny."

"What's funny?"

"I forgot to arm the system when I left. I was so fixated on seeing H, I didn't set the alarm."

Logan withdrew his firearm. "I'm going to go room to room with you. We'll start upstairs and work our way down. You let me know if anything is out of place."

"There's no forced entry. I'm sure it's fine," Clarice commented without worry.

"Probably, but I promised Hannibal I would see you home safely and I'm not leaving 'til I'm totally sure you're good to go."

"Okay, let's do this quick. I'm tired and I just want to curl up in front of the fireplace."

Logan and Clarice started upstairs and worked their way in and out of every room. Finding nothing unusual they moved down to the main floor of the home and again checked each room. The final area they inspected was the family room. Logan stepped in, scanned the layout and spotted the remote for the television on the rug beside the sofa. Clarice and Hannibal often fell asleep in front of the fireplace therefore the television in the room was set on a timer. Because it turned itself off Clarice had not entered the room since that evening.

Logan picked it up. "Hey, what's the remote doing on the ground?"

Clarice panicked, not wanting Logan to turn on the television. The VCR was obviously still loaded with the tape. She held out her hand casually gesturing for Logan to hand her the remote.

"I dropped that when I had the pain. H called the ambulance then everything went to shit when that moron Bloom moved on him. I've been so upset I never came back in here to pick it up."

Logan turned it over and considered it. Smiling, he handed it to Clarice. "Well, looks like everything is copasetic so I'm gonna take off. I'm taking Ardelia out for pizza tonight."

Clarice walked him to the door. She offered a little sisterly advice as he stepped through the entrance and onto the threshold.

"You know you're not in college anymore, Logan. You might want to up your game and take her to a _real _restaurant."

"I like pizza!" he defended.

"_Everyone_ likes pizza just not four or five times a week." Clarice stood in the doorway. "A girl wants to get dressed up once in a while. Do you think Hannibal takes me out for pizza?"

"Nah, but he's part Italian. He can probably cook pizza up himself. I can't. Plus, he likes wearing grown up clothes like tailored suits and shit. I just can't make that look work for me. Plus fitted trousers make me itch in places I can't scratch in public."

"Logan, take off the cargo pants and heavy metal tee-shirt shake the moths out of your suit and take Dee out someplace nice."

"Okay…okay…chick conspiracy, I get it! I'll take her anywhere she wants. I'll even wear a shirt with a collar."

"Not that Hawaiian disaster either."

"Okay, I'll wear a real shirt! Now if you're done nagging get back inside and lock the door. Hannibal told me to make sure I don't leave until you activate that security system so don't go making a liar outta me. Turn the alarm _on_ this time."

"You got it, Logan. Thanks my friend."

Logan waved, "Don't forget to tell my buddy I checked the house and everything."

Clarice thought Logan's dedication to Hannibal was sweet. "Don't worry…I'll let him know when I see him tomorrow."

Clarice watched to be certain Logan had driven off. Still holding the remote, Clarice realized she hadn't seen the entire tape. When she called for Hannibal's help, she remembered hearing her husband's voice still coming from the television. She decided she needed to watch the rest of the tape. She needed to know exactly what he was up against.

_What other surprises do you have up your sleeve, H?_

Clarice quickly wound the tape to the last point she recognized and sat back.

_Okay, H…what devious little machinations did you finally come up with? _

Clarice hit play.

Hannibal spoke very clearly as he flipped the shining silver coin across his knuckles, "Alan, your image is very important to you, yes?"

Bloom nodded as he watched the light playing off the flipping coin, "Yes, very. I was always amazed that your image was not more important to you."

The rhythm of Hannibal's voice was matched to Bloom's breathing patterns. The pauses in his sentences were strategically broken up so the inhalations and exhalations fell on natural syllabic breaks.

"My image is important to me only in the context of how my wife perceives me. I am not concerned with the perception of others. Clarice and my son are my only concern."

His voice was impassive as Hannibal moved the coin under his hand with his thumb, palmed the coin and held it.

Bloom looked carefully to see when and where the coin might reappear. Hannibal watched the direction of Bloom's eyes while placing the coin on its edge. He balanced it with the index finger of his left hand while he flicked it with his middle finger and thumb of the right, causing it to spin on its edge reflecting little pulsing strobes of light.

Bloom stared at the coin as he spoke, "You were not ashamed when you were arrested? You went from one of the most respected members of the social and intellectual community to being a convicted murderer. That must have been absolutely mortifying."

Hannibal ran his tongue along the edges of his upper teeth, then again across his lower teeth. He captured the coin in his fist as he considered the question.

"Not even remotely. I will admit that the incarceration was inconvenient, but the experience of being convicted or publicly judged had no impact on my intellectual life or my artistic pursuits. I remained able to publish in scholarly journals and my opinion was still sought after. No, other than the physical restrictions, and sub-standard dietary options, I found there was very little change to my life."

Bloom stared at Hannibal's hand and felt the absence of the coin very keenly, "You went from living a beautiful home to a tiny cell. You were trapped in that dungeon and half the time you didn't even have a toilet seat. Not exactly a dignified life."

Opening his palm and holding it out flat, Hannibal showed the coin to Bloom as he continued to speak, "My dignity is at the very core of my being and as such no person can impact it either through their actions or their lack of action. There was never a time where I felt it compromised."

"You were locked up, they all but threw away the key."

"Though my movement was restricted, there were no boundaries within my mind, thus I was totally free."

Bloom smiled as Hannibal again revealed the coin and begin to flip it over his knuckles, "You were publicly shamed. Everyone who knew you was now terrified of you."

A very slow and very sly smile crossed Hannibal's expression. They were finally circling around to his target. His voice showed compassion and concern, "There is no shame in me therefore fearful or not, the public's perception of me was of no concern at all. If your abilities were questioned, your professional integrity or your motivations suspect, you would not be able to bear that perception?"

Bloom spoke softly as if experiencing a deeply hidden fear bubble to the surface, "I would find that level of disgrace to be absolutely unbearable."

With a carefree glint in his eye, Hannibal tossed the coin in the air and continued his line of questioning.

"You would feel shame if the circumstances were similar? If your public image was called into question and your reputation irreparably damaged you would be?"

Bloom was very quick to finish the sentence and acknowledge his weakness, "I would be devastated by the embarrassment. I wouldn't be able to absorb it."

Hannibal was curious and content as he masterfully led Bloom in the direction he wished to take him, "If you could not absorb the devastation, what would you do? Could you not live with the disgrace and adjust your life accordingly?"

Bloom was quite animated, "No, I would want to die."

Hannibal continued to reinforce Bloom's position and request he defend it, "Though it would be no doubt difficult to absorb the embarrassment, no one has ever died of shame. What does not kill you makes you stronger."

"It _would_ kill me…I guess I'm not as strong as you. I wouldn't be able to _stand_ the dishonor."

Hannibal switched hands with the coin by tossing it in the air and catching it flat on the palm of his left hand. He then began to roll the coin over the knuckles of his left hand with the same dexterity he exhibited with his right hand. He spoke impulsively as if he had never considered the idea that revealed itself in his mind.

"There is an alternative I had not considered as my perspective at the time of my arrest was quite different than yours seems to be. I was not affected by what you perceive to be my public dishonor but had I been, I may have chosen a more chivalrous approach. Many cultures consider the taking of one's own life to be the only way to redeem lost honor."

Bloom's face lit up as he contributed to the notion, "Yes, it's common knowledge that many cultures utilized that practice, the Romans for example. Also, the Japanese samurai practiced Harakiri."

"Actually the more culturally accurate and patently less vulgar term is Seppuku. It is a very stylized, ritualistic and extremely public disemboweling."

Bloom spoke with interest as he enjoyed watching the rolling of the coin reflecting flashes of light flipping across Hannibal's elegant hand. He excitedly elaborated on the topic, "They used a sword didn't they…it's called a katana, I think."

"Actually, no, traditionally a short blade, a tanto, would more likely be used."

"They would do what…stab themselves?"

"The blade would be inserted in the abdominal area and the individual would drag it across their body traditionally slicing from left to right. If a samurai were shamed in such a way, this would be the most direct way to recover your...excuse me…_his_ honor."

"How do you know so much about the samurai?"

"I lived with my uncle and his wife after the death of my parents. She was Japanese, her line descending from the Hiroshima Samurai. For many years I studied Kenjutsu under her tutelage."

"What is kenjutsu?"

"It is the art of Japanese swordsmanship. We also discussed Bushido at great length."

Hannibal flattened the coin on the table and tapped it several times.

Bloom's eyes shifted. _Pick it up. Please, pick it up!_ Staring at the dormant coin, he absentmindedly mouthed the word, "Bushido?"

Hannibal picked up the coin and again flipped it over his knuckles. He intently watched as Bloom's eyes tracked the coin. Hannibal's voice was direct and now becoming more expressive.

"It is the way of the warrior. It is the code of honor, chivalry, frugality and mastery of one's life and skills that guides the lives of all Samurai. It is the way in which one lives the life of an honorable man. Do you consider yourself an honorable man, Alan?"

_The coin…the coin…_ "Yes. I have always lived my life with that as my goal."

Hannibal watched the reaction as he again palmed the coin. There was disappointment in the man's eyes when the coin disappeared no matter how briefly it occurred. _You are far too easy my friend!_ "It has long been a goal of mine as well. We have similar sensibilities."

By his ecstatic response, Bloom was obviously very pleased by Hannibal's admission. "Yes. Yes, I have often thought under different circumstances we might have been friends."

"Yes. Under _different_ circumstances I might agree. The events of our lives have unfolded in a way that makes that quite impossible now. In the matter of my child, we are diametrically opposed. You believe that I am impaired organically and as such would be a danger to my own offspring. Is that an accurate assessment of your position?"

"Yes. That is quite an accurate assessment."

"We are adversaries then?"

"Yes. We are."

"Only one of us will prevail in this."

"Yes. That is a certainty."

"One of us will be grossly dishonored."

"Yes. That is likely."

"Might I ask a personal favor of you, Alan? If I am indeed dishonored, if my child is to be taken, before you remove the baby from my wife…" Hannibal paused, "...would you do me the favor of allowing me to take my own life rather than allow my child to be raised away from his mother? Would you grant me that respect?"

Bloom considered the request, "Yes. I would allow you that. I do owe you that respect."

"What if you were to be relieved of this case and I am found to be competent by an independent psychiatrist? One you respect and admire such as Doctor Danielson from Johns Hopkins or possibly Heimlich, you would respect either of their opinions wouldn't you? If they disagreed with your assessment, you would then be dishonored in my stead. What would you do? Would you bear the shame?"

"I would not."

"Would you admit, too that if I am judged to be a sane man, that your accusation to the contrary could be considered an insult to me personally?"

"Yes, if you are indeed to be found sane my suggestions to the contrary would indeed be an insult."

Hannibal baited the hook and dangled it in front of his suggestible prey.

"As an honorable man who has been thusly offended would I not be entitled to some level of satisfaction? If I am cleared and found to be fully competent, should there not be some manner by which we might redress this indignity? Might you allow me to restore my own personal honor?"

"Yes, you would be entitled to that."

"Shall we consider this a duel of sorts? Together, shall we test of our honor as gentlemen?"

Bloom seemed genuinely excited by the prospect, "In a duel, to ensure fairness the participants had matching weapons. What shall we use?"

"If you will allow me?" Hannibal reached into his desk and pulled out two small boxes. He flipped the lids to reveal two identical, shining serrated edged Spyderco Harpys. "We must determine the conditions. Because I would not wish to live if I were denied my wife and my child and you have implied your own dishonor would be far too difficult to overcome, may I suggest _a la outrance_."

"Meaning what precisely?" Bloom questioned.

"A la outrance is a term that signifies a duel to the death. For our purposes it would mean that one of us would walk away a vindicated man and one of us would succumb to a self-inflicted injury, Alan. Do you agree to the terms?"

"Yes. I do agree…Absolutely. I accept your challenge with great pleasure, Doctor Lecter. I am so sorry that your life and your intellect will come to an end in this way, though it is an honorable and respectable resolution to our conflict. As you have already been convicted of killing with this kind of weapon your death in this way would be very appropriate."

"Yes, well if one is to live by the sword, one must be willing to die by the sword as well. Do you not agree?"

"Yes. I do most certainly agree." Bloom lifted the knife from the box and opened the blade very carefully. He turned it over and examined it under the hypnotic glow of the single lamp, mesmerized as the light glinted off the polished blade. "It is an exceptionally elegant knife. I am not surprised it was your preferred weapon."

"It is also exceptionally sharp therefore the actual incision would be much like a hot knife passing through butter. It would be fairly painless. Now that we have come to this understanding, I wouldn't want to cause you undue suffering, Alan."

_Like slipping into a warm bath…_

Bloom nodded, "Nor I you, Hannibal."

Hannibal took the matching Harpy and tucked the weapon comfortably up his sleeve. He then turned his chair and looked over his shoulder directly into the camera.

The shift in perspective caught Clarice off-guard. Her husband was now looking directly at her from the television.

His voice was soft and filled with warmth, "Clarice, the show is over. There is no way for me to predict when you chose to view this tape therefore, if I am not beside you, please be a darling and place the tape in our safe until my return."

Hannibal glanced at Bloom and back to the camera lens. He reached toward the camera and winked at his wife before turning off the equipment.

"Do not worry, my Love. I promise you. I _will_ return."

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and tell me what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	102. Chapter 102

**BLOOM'S DILEMMA**

Hannibal was resting in his cell contemplating the upcoming day. It was early, just after dawn. The staff that was assigned to assist with the Bashandi meeting had been informed not to report for duty before ten o'clock. No one expected Hannibal to be removed from his cell before the meeting as Bloom was not expected that morning. That didn't stop Bloom from coming.

Bloom was invited to the White House for an eleven o'clock meeting. A car would be sent an hour before the meeting so Bloom woke early so that he would be able to get to the prison and back in time to be picked up. There was a very important problem. How to get the Harpy into the prison? Bloom needed to get Hannibal alone, certain Hannibal would know what to do.

When the forensic psychologist arrived at the prison just after sunrise, the officers at the entry phoned the warden's office obviously questioning his intention. The warden hurried to meet him and was out of breath from running. He wanted to get to Bloom before Bloom got to Hannibal.

"I was informed you had a special meeting at the White House this morning, Doctor. To what do we owe this surprise visit? Do you need to gather some paperwork or files for your meeting?"

"No. I intend to interview Doctor Lecter before my meeting."

"I was told Doctor Lecter would not be leaving his cell this morning. The guards he's become accustomed to will not be reporting for several hours. If you wish I can remove him from his cell personally but that presents me with a very unstable and possibly dangerous situation."

Bloom watched the guards sort through his medical bag as he passed through the security checkpoint. "I don't know what would be so dangerous. Everyone seems convinced he's harmless, so if he's harmless, there shouldn't be any increased risk."

"What do you intend to do with Hannibal?" the warden questioned. "If I know where you are bringing him and why, I can plan what his security needs are."

"His security needs or _my_ security needs?" Bloom asked sarcastically.

"Of course my concern's for your security as well, Doctor Bloom."

"I'm glad to hear that Warden. I will be waiting in the interview room. Please have the guards bring him to me as soon as possible. No cameras. I need him alone today."

The warden nodded and turned quickly to head for Hannibal's cell.

When the warden arrived, Hannibal appeared asleep on his bunk. He was resting on his left side in order to keep his back to the camera as he slept.

"Doctor Lecter, forgive my waking you however Doctor Bloom's arrived and he wants me to bring you to him in the interview room. He's waiting there now and I'm not certain he has your best interest in mind."

Hannibal rolled onto his back but remained fully reclined on his bunk, not even turning his head as he spoke. Because of his supine position his voice was low in the room and floated eerily across the darkened cell much like a fog rolls across the water.

"Why is it I wonder, after all you have witnessed, you actually believe your statement might be in some way a revelation?"

The warden was actually a bit ashamed and his tone of voice reflected it, "I don't agree with the way you've been treated Doctor Lecter. If there was something I could have done…"

Hannibal flipped over and sat up so quickly it caused the warden to jump back from the glass surprised and frightened by the almost unnatural speed of movement.

Hannibal was amused by the response and paused for a moment to enjoy the man's fear. He then commented quietly, "I was not suggesting you should or could have changed my circumstances, Warden. I am aware this situation was no more within _your_ control, than it was within _mine_."

The warden looked down at the ground and dragged his right foot along the cement. "I've got to bring you to him, Doctor. I'm sorry. Could you approach the port to cuff up?"

Hannibal stood. "Of course, Warden, I am only too happy to again offer myself to Doctor Bloom for whatever depraved treatment he has spent the evening conjuring."

The warden had no response. He cuffed Hannibal, attached the chain to allow him to open the door, and waited for Hannibal to exit the cell.

"What time is it?" Hannibal asked, "I am certain it is not much later than seven o'clock judging by the staff on shift and the play of light through the windows."

"It's six forty-five."

"Starting a bit early aren't we? This will make for an extremely long day I would think. Please tell me I will not be in Doctor Bloom's company the whole of the day. I am a strong man, but I am not a young man. There are limits to my endurance."

"No, the Bashandi's have confirmed. They will be arriving by noon. Your wife and Mr. Pearsall will be accompanying them."

"I would assume Doctor Bloom will not be present at the meeting."

"No, the White House has requested a meeting with him. He'll be there all afternoon."

They arrived at the interview room. The warden opened the door led Hannibal in and secured his cuffs to the chair. He spoke softly, "I'll be just outside that door. If he does anything to harm you, call out and I'll come right in."

Hannibal settled against the chair shifting to find a position that might make the handcuffs comfortable.

"You have seen my interactions with Doctor Bloom, yes?"

"Yes."

"Have you heard me call out?"

"No. I haven't."

"And you will not here me call out this time, either. Whatever he is to do, he will do. I will accept the treatment without complaint."

The warden nodded and turned to Bloom, "He'd better come out of this room in the same condition he entered."

"Your posturing isn't necessary, Warden. I'm only going to ask Doctor Lecter a couple of questions. You can have him back in a few minutes."

Bloom watched the door close. When he was certain they were alone he leaned over to Hannibal and spoke very quietly, "Our time together is coming to a close, Hannibal. I only have one question for you before I leave for my meeting with the White House."

"What question is that, Alan?"

"I know you brought your Harpy in with you. It's on your property list but you might not be allowed to access it. I would provide my blade for your death, but I go through the metal detector every time I enter the prison. As we will need the backup, how do I get mine in the building?"

"It is a problem certainly, but not insurmountable by any means," Hannibal considered the situation. "How do they search your medical bag? Do they search it by hand or does it pass through an x-ray?"

"The officers hand search it."

Believing he had a solution, Hannibal continued, "The guards follow the same procedure each and every time?"

Bloom nodded excitedly, "Yes…each and every time."

"The solution is simple Alan. It will only require the lifting of some Velcro and a moment's time. I'm quite certain you will have no difficulties."

"You're sure?"

"Trust, Alan…trust."

**HANNIBAL'S GIFT**

Clarice spent most of the morning readying the home for the arrival of her guests feeling confident and more than prepared. She hoped Hannibal was equally prepared for the meeting though from the impression gathered after viewing the tape, he wasn't only prepared he waited with rapt anticipation.

_I don't know how you can stand it, H. If I were locked up a day, I'd be going bat shit insane. How does that mind of yours work? How do you live within yourself so well?_

Moving throughout the rooms she was grateful that Hannibal was so meticulous. The home was designed perfectly for entertaining guests and it was so well kept, it required little effort on Clarice's part to prepare for the Bashandi's.

_Well, at least there's plenty of room and everyone can maintain their privacy._

Hannibal enjoyed luxury and added the master suite soon after purchasing the home. The original master would be perfectly suited to the Bashandi's as it was very large with soaring ceilings and it had a very private, newly updated master bath attached.

The second guest room was a large, bright room with neutral tones and a small balcony overlooking the backyard. Clarice had chosen the smaller bedroom for the nursery because it was closer to the master suite.

She also believed that giving Hannibal's son a bedroom with a balcony might be a future invitation to disaster. If he turned out to be anything like his father the boy would have little fear and his impulse control might need to be closely monitored.

No, the room with the balcony would be reserved for their daughter, if they were so blessed. As such, it would be perfect for Mariyah.

Each of the guest rooms had a small refrigerator and microwave built into custom cabinetry within the ample walk in closets. Clarice had contacted Mariyah for a list of favored snacks and drinks in order to fully stock the rooms. The bathrooms were already filled with baskets of soaps, lotions and high end toiletries. Clarice even thought to move two large wicker chairs onto the balcony so that Mariyah could use Hannibal's telescope if it were a clear night. Certain that everything was in place she would now prepare herself for the busy afternoon.

Clarice showered, put on her favorite bathrobe and slippers and shuffled apprehensively from the bathroom into the master suite to her closet. She was not looking forward to the meeting. Even though she was certain Hannibal had considered every contingency Clarice worried.

_I don't know, H. What if you forgot something? What if you missed something? _

Pushing through a few of her clothing options without much excitement her lack of inspiration reinforced her feeling that she wasn't particularly attractive due to her blossoming figure. She couldn't fathom what she should wear. She laughed at the awkward nature of the day's topic.

_What the hell does a person wear to a meeting where her husband's sanity will be the main topic of conversation?_

Clarice smiled at her self-deprecation. She was about to give up and put on her maternity standby: a simple black dress she purchased on an outing with Ardelia. Disappointed with her options she reached for the standby only to notice a garment bag zip-tied flush with the dress's hanger. Hannibal obviously knew she would choose this dress and had already prepared another choice.

_You are such a wise ass, H. How did you know I would reach for that dress?_

Clarice opened the bag to reveal a deep eggplant colored dress with an empire waist, a black satin sash and a delicate bow gathered on the small of the back. The dress fell just above the knee and was absolutely elegant and very classic. A perfect strand of pearls had been carefully draped over the hanger. Clarice smiled widely.

_Still picking my clothing out for me, H? Not that I'm complaining. I love pearls._

Clarice noticed a small plastic bag attached to the hanger with lovely drop pearl earrings and a note inside. She dipped the tip of her nose within the bag, breathed and smiled. His cologne was still heavy on the letter. Clarice inhaled deeply, this time a look of disappointment crossed her face. She wished for Hannibal's gift. Not his gift of the dress or the pearls. She longed for his sense of smell that she might call to her not his cologne, but his personal scent: that which made him Hannibal.

_I can only detect it when your flesh is on me. I miss your body, H. I miss your breath. I miss the smell of you, the weight of you…your voice whispering in my ear instead of echoing in my mind. _

She forced herself away from the scent to remove the note. _What do you have to say to me? What did you already know that I could never predict. That no one would have ever predicted._

Clarice unfolded the paper and began to read, her eyes welling slightly at the sight of his handwriting.

_There was a time I longed for your letters, H. Now, they only mean that you're away from me…now, I have too many letters. _

Clarice sat on the edge of the bed. Holding the letter firmly with both hands she trembled as she read:

_**Dear Clarice,**_

_**Forgive what you must perceive as another of my attempts to dress you. I realize that your taste is impeccable but as you will see, there is a method to my madness, so to speak. **_

_**There will no doubt be a meeting to discuss my case when my treatment is made public. Please indulge me and wear this to said meeting. On the shelf above, you will find matching shoes and a bag suitable to your needs.**_

_**The choices were not made to suggest you would need my assistance. Rather, it is my way of caring for you. Knowing this would be a stressful time and believing you would put my needs above your own, I wanted to ease your mind by providing these gifts. You are truly God's masterpiece, Clarice. It is my desire that you feel as lovely and confident on the outside as you truly are on the inside.**_

_**My Love, if you would be so kind as to please bring the garment bag in my closet along with you so that I may present myself to the public wearing something more dignified than the Department of Corrections can provide. I am attempting to take advantage of what I perceive will be a shift in my public persona. I will appear much less threatening in Armani than in prison blues. **_

_**This image combined with your presence by my side will present a unified appearance. It will be a visual representation of our love, dedication and commitment to one another. **_

_**Your strength in this matter has, I have no doubt, been impressive as always and I am certain that I remain in absolute awe of you. Know that when I am alone I contemplate our lives together and though I do not understand the reasons for your love, I am humbled by it and happy to accept that which I do not deserve. **_

_**I love you very much, Clarice and though these words of endearment are a poor substitute for my presence, we must both try to make due. This ordeal will soon be over and we will be a family once again. Until that time know that I remain, **_

_**Ever yours, **_

_**H**_

Clarice walked to her bureau, again breathed the scent of his cologne from the note and placed it in a drawer to put with her collection later. She then placed the dress on her bed and moved to Hannibal's closet.

_Okay, let's see what you've got me dragging down to that god-awful prison._

She opened his closet and took out the garment bag prominently displayed among the neat row of suits and shirts. Placing the bag beside her own outfit she pulled down the zipper to reveal a deep black suit, crisp white shirt with French cuffs, platinum and pearl cuff links and a deep eggplant colored tie that exactly matched the hue of her dress. A single pearl on a platinum tack secured the tie and a paisley silk was tucked with a flourish into the breast pocket.

Clarice laughed aloud at Hannibal's habit of exactly matching their clothing, this time down to the jewelry, as a very personal and very distinct means of identifying them as a couple.

_Forever marking your territory aren't you, H. That's okay. I want them to know you're mine as well._

The remainder of her time was spent dressing, fixing her makeup and her styling her hair. Hannibal had given a great deal of thought to the dress and all of the accessories. He went to a lot of trouble to make it very obvious they were a couple, so proud was he to have her by his side. Clarice understood that Hannibal wanted her to be equally proud to be in his company. She wanted to honor him as her husband and would be certain to look her best for him.

Pearsall arrived with the car an hour before the Bashandi's plane would land. He went to the door, waited for Clarice to set the alarm and escorted her to the limo.

"Thanks for picking me up, Clint."

Pearsall extended his hand and steadied Clarice as she entered the car. One hand was on the roof of the car and the other on the open door as he leaned in and spoke softly so as not to be overheard by the driver.

"I should be thanking you, Clarice. You're really saving my ass. The president is really embarrassed about this Bashandi situation. That idiot Bloom was only directed to test Hannibal and he was supposed to keep it quiet. This was never supposed to be about Chilton or personal vendettas or anything like that. Bloom has taken this to another level and his use of the court system hog-tied the administration. This turned into something no one expected."

"_Hannibal _expected it."

Pearsall held up a hand directing Clarice to hold her thought. He hurried around the car, waited for oncoming traffic to pass and entered quickly.

After so many years with the FBI Pearsall was not a trusting man. He again leaned in so as not to be overheard, "What do you mean?"

Clarice followed his lead and tilted her head toward him certain to keep her voice low, "Bloom has always been jealous of the attention Hannibal's received. He and Chilton treated H pretty badly when he was at Baltimore State Forensic."

"Bloom was never at Baltimore State."

"Not officially, but because the FBI used him as a consultant he conferred with Chilton and developed a lot of the treatment protocols and restraint procedures. A lot of the discomfort of Hannibal's incarceration he blames on Bloom.

"Do you think Hannibal killed Chilton?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever talk about it?"

"No."

"Why? He doesn't want you to remember what he's done?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I thought he might try to avoid reminding you…" Pearsall paused.

"_Never forget what he is… _

Clarice encouraged him to continue, wanting this all out in the open. "Let's just put it all out there, Clint. You thought he might try to avoid reminding me of what?"

"Maybe he might not want to remind you of the fact that he's a killer and a cannibal."

"Hey, I've killed plenty of people too, Clint. I just didn't eat them."

"Yeah that's true but you had a badge and they deserved it."

Clarice made certain make eye contact with Pearsall. She wanted to make herself perfectly understood.

"Hannibal believes the people he killed deserved it as well. Who the hell am I to judge him? What difference did that badge make to the people I killed? Dead is dead, Clint."

"You didn't eat them."

"So what if he _did_ eat them? That doesn't offend me. I'm not that sentimental or delicate. We're all part of the food chain so once you're dead…you're just meat to something else. Hannibal's just the top of the chain. For me, he's agreed to restrict his diet. That's all I can ask of him."

Pearsall shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know…I just thought he might be ashamed of it, that's all. You know…remorseful."

Clarice clutched at the handbag her husband purchased to her chest and imagined she was holding him.

Her voice was not soft nor did it reflect any hint of shame or recrimination in her husband's actions.

"He's has no remorse for any of the things he's done. He feels perfectly justified or he would not have done them and if I wanted to talk to him about his crimes he would absolutely tell me every single detail. We have no secrets or hidden agendas. We love each other, Clint. I accept him for who he is and does the same for me. That's enough for us."

Shifting in his seat and angling his body to face Clarice, Pearsall became much more animated, "I tell you, Clarice, even I can see it. He's really different now. You've changed him."

She shook her head, "No I haven't…I couldn't. No one could. He's exactly the same man he was before he met me and I swear I'd slit my wrists before I _would_ change him. I am just attempting to help him transition."

"Transition?"

"He's learning to live in a world where people know about him and are frightened of him. It's got to be pretty daunting at times."

"Well, he doesn't _kill _people anymore. That's different."

"He's killed recently. You know that."

"Yeah…well, Bloom's lucky Hannibal has you or that Harpy of his would have found a new jugular to slit."

"Yeah, Bloom's lucky all right."

Clarice smiled inwardly and wondered just how long it would be before Bloom's stupidity caught up to him. Not that she cared. Bloom was a threat to her family and there was no way Hannibal would allow anyone to threaten his family.

It was now almost noon. Bloom was on the way to the White House. The Bashandi's, Clarice and Pearsall were now in the car and heading for the prison and Hannibal, having directed each of the players to their positions and having set up all the rules of play, sat back fully entertained as Bloom's end game began.

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	103. Chapter 103

**ENOUGH REALITY**

After greeting Pearsall and Clarice warmly, Egyptian Prime Minister Anwar Bashandi entered the limo with purpose. He was focused on getting as much information as possible from the Deputy Director and had many questions about the president.

"Why, exactly, has Hannibal Lecter had been detained?" By his demeanor and tone it was obvious Bashandi was irate and had taken personal offense to Hannibal's detention. "The president's morals are exposed in this. It shows a lack of character from the man. Doctor Lecter took a very large risk to help find Mariyah and the only payment he asked for the risk he assumed was the ability to live openly with his wife and child. It seems to me that as soon as he attempted to do so, he was immediately treated as if he were a criminal. He should not be detained. He should be freed immediately. I intend to see that happen."

Clarice interceded, attempting to improve the Egyptian prime minister's view of the president.

"Mr. Prime Minister, I want to clarify that while Hannibal didn't agree to the commitment, he did voluntarily surrender himself for the testing requested by the president."

Mariyah leaned forward listening intently to all of the conversations. Clarice could see her intelligence sparkle in her eyes as she processed the situation.

"Why would he do that?" Mariyah asked, her voice brimming with concern.

Clarice placed a consoling hand on Mariyah's arm and spoke very calmly, "Our baby will be here soon and we were told this particular psychiatrist was considering either petitioning the court to have the baby taken from us or to have Hannibal removed from our home."

Clarice shifted in her seat as the baby kicked and stretched within her. She took several very deep breaths seeking to calm. The child was far more active if he sensed distress within her. He had been very active of late.

Mariyah reached for Clarice's hand and held it in support. The incisive girl continued to question, "Can they really do that here? Can they just take a baby away from the parents?"

Pearsall answered directly, "Yes, if they think the baby is in danger."

"Why would the baby be in danger? He's going to be a wonderful father. He's a wonderful friend." Mariyah was very emotional as she peered out the window. Her heart raced as she waited for the prison to appear around every corner, over every rise in the roadway. "That's even more reason why Hannibal should have stayed away from those people. They can't be trusted."

Clarice understood that opinion. In fact, she shared it, but it wouldn't do to tell the Bashandi's her feelings. She instead explained her husband's thinking.

"Hannibal believed if he participated _willingly_, they would understand he was no threat and would leave our family in peace. Our situation has been complicated because although Hannibal's passed all of the psychological tests, Doctor Bloom isn't being very receptive and has sabotaged Hannibal's efforts."

Bashandi's arms were folded across his chest in defiance. He sat forward on the seat, puffed his chest and arched his back. There was an air of regality about the man giving him the appearance of sitting, not in a car but on a throne. As he questioned Pearsall his voice struck an authoritative tone, "What does that have to do with the fact that the president requested an evaluation that had already presumably been completed?"

Pearsall attempted to mimic the man's posture but not having the core of values or supportive musculature was soon forced to abandon the effort. Somewhat slouched, he proceeded with damage control.

"The president wanted Hannibal evaluated simply to provide a second opinion, and to be certain there were no changes in his status. That evaluation had been fully administered and completed in the Lecter's home. After administering the test, which Lecter passed, this particular psychiatrist bypassed the president and went directly to the courts. He's grossly overstepped the boundaries of his initial assignment."

Prime Minister Bashandi continued the line of questioning obviously wanting all the information he needed before meeting with Hannibal. "Mrs. Lecter, did you say that your husband agreed to be tested?"

"Yes, Mr. Prime Minister, he agreed to be tested as a courtesy to the president."

Bashandi wagged an accusatory finger, not at Clarice, but in general disdain for the situation.

"Did he also agree to the electric shock treatments? Did he agree to that extreme level of isolation?"

Clarice's eyes welled slightly. She was forced to take a breath to steady herself before answering.

Seeing her struggle and not wanting Clarice to become emotional, Pearsall answered the question for her.

"No, he should have been tested on paper alone. None of the treatment he has been subjected to was agreed to either by Doctor Lecter, his wife, or the president. The psychiatrist operated under his own volition and received permission for some of those treatments by order of the court."

The prime minister thumped his back against the seat in disgust. His voice was incredulous, "How is it possible that one doctor, and one judge have more power than the president?"

Pearsall attempted to answer the question as dispassionately and thoroughly as possible. "This particular doctor used the courts to obtain an order taking emergency custody of Doctor Lecter by stating he was a danger to society. The court will review the material and will determine Doctor Lecter's mental status. They have up to seventeen days to complete the evaluation. The matter must then be brought before the court and the judge will review the material and make a determination."

Clarice watched the prime minister very carefully. He was more than impressive.

_You pick your allies well, H. This guy's passion for your cause is going to play well on camera._

Bashandi shook his head in disbelief as Pearsall explained the process. He was not pleased to hear the president's conversation to him confirmed, "Therefore the president has no consideration in this process? Of course, he told me as much but I did not believe him. He claims to have no influence and while I understand that on the surface one does attempt to maintain an air of independence between one's political seat and the courts, surely there is some way he can bring pressure to bear."

"Not unless he wants to chance removal from office. He cannot control the decision of the court or influence the process in any way. The separation of powers insures that no man holds too much power."

Bashandi nodded, "Yes, as I told the president, it would seem no man, other than Doctor Bloom of course, holds too much power."

As they turned the corner and proceeded on East Madison Street where the prison was located Clarice was surprised at how large the crowd of supporters had become. There were thousands of people lining the streets. The road running alongside the prison had been closed to accommodate all of the satellite trucks needed to support the demand for news feeds from across the country. There were also international news carriers with reporters doing on-camera interviews. It was a circus atmosphere with paparazzi and journalists alike jockeying for the best position.

When the limo pulled up in front of the prison Clarice rolled her eyes. Pearsall noticed her look of disgust and countered, "Don't worry. I'll get you in past the reporters and the idiots with the signs."

"What about that idiot?" Clarice pointed out the window.

There, in the center of a throng of supporters, Logan waited very patiently with a wheelchair. A halo of people surrounded him, though none too close, as he had obviously warned them away.

Clarice was both irritated and amused. "I thought I dodged him by catching a ride with you but he's smarter than he looks."

Pearsall leaned over Clarice and spotted Logan. "Hey, you might not like it but he promised your husband he'd look after you and he takes it seriously."

Clarice prepared herself for the fact that she would be riding in the assisted device. There was no way Logan would let her face Hannibal unaided. She laughed at the sight of him, "I keep saying that man is dumber than a bag of hair about everything else in his life but when it comes to firearms or promises to Hannibal he's an idiot savant."

Mariah peered out at the prison. The front of the building was ominous: cement walls and rusted windows covered with rolls of razor wire. She became visibly distraught.

"He's been in here for almost two weeks…_Here_?"

Clarice realized that Mariyah would be hurt for Hannibal. She had become emotionally attached to him and it would be difficult for her to see what he had been going through up close. She placed a consoling arm around the girl's shoulder. "He's an incredibly strong man, Mariyah. I've visited with him. You'll see. He's fine."

Mariyah tugged the zipper of her coat nervously as her emotions bubbled to the surface. She initially had a difficult time adjusting to her life after enduring her captivity at the hands of Stuart Miggs. Keeping in close contact with Hannibal had helped her immeasurably with the pain and isolation of the event and now knowing he was experiencing similar pain hurt her deeply. She spoke very softly and there was a tremor in her voice, "I just want to cry right now. I think when I see him…I'm just going to cry."

Anwar Bashandi took her hand and squeezed it. His voice was firm, "Tears will not help your friend. Do you remember the things he told you? Do you remember what he did to help you?"

"I remember everything he ever told me. I constantly read his emails over and over again. I just want to tell him how much he's helped me."

Bashandi's voice softened, "You will tell him; you will tell everyone, and if you are articulate and you are passionate in your defense of him, they will have no choice but to rule in his favor. He is counting on us to help him as much as we counted on him. Doctor Lecter did not let us down. We owe him the same effort."

"Yes. I know…" Mariyah stared out the window at the prison. "…but I still might cry."

**HANNIBAL PREPARES**

Hannibal was taken to the shower, un-cuffed and allowed to enter the area unrestrained though the guard followed him into the actual shower area.

Accustomed to the procedures of prison life Hannibal removed his clothing without taking note of the close supervision of the guard assigned to him. The guard handed Hannibal a sub-standard disposable safety razor and a small can of shaving cream.

"Sorry, Doctor Lecter, I know you're used to better than this."

Hannibal took the bit of plastic, assessed the inadequate metal strip and sighed as he addressed the guard.

"I've tolerated Bloom's petty torments without complaint. I am not offended by the utter lack of privacy or the tepid trickling from the pipes due to the lack of water pressure, but I really do take umbrage to being given this wholly inadequate tool with which to groom. It is certain that I would attain a much closer shave with my Harpy than with this toy."

"That's probably true…those razors are crap," the guard commiserated.

Hannibal turned and stood in front of the sink peering into the flat piece of polished steel that would serve as a mirror. Beside his own warped reflection, Hannibal could clearly see the reverse image of the guard staring at him. He lathered his face as he spoke, "Will you be watching my progress? Assessing my abilities with a razor, perhaps?"

"Yeah…Sorry. I've been directed to supervise the razor. Super-max security protocols…you know the drill I'm sure."

"_Knowing_ the drill and _enjoying_ the drill are two different matters _entirely,_" Hannibal commented as he rinsed the dull razor in the sink.

Hannibal was more than a little irritated being in the company of this man. He reminded him of Logan though without the charm. Not that he minded the man's physical presence, he expected to be watched. Rather, he minded the guard's insinuation that there would be anything that anyone could do to stop him if there was a life he wished to take.

He began to drag the razor with the grain of his beard deciding the Chopin Polonaise in A major op. 40 no. 1 would be an enjoyable distraction. The history of the piece gave it an air of defiance and pride associated with its performance. He smiled as it soon echoed within his mind.

"Don't you find it amazing that I am watched so carefully with regards to this pathetic razor and amusing that one assumes from my past that I would choose to injure without cause? Have I not gone to great lengths to heal and not to harm?"

"Well, you _are_ meeting with the Egyptian Prime Minister so precautions are being enhanced. I don't think it's anything personal."

"Yes, I'm certain I could do a tremendous amount of damage to Prime Minister Bashandi with _this_ mighty weapon. Not to mention he is an ally not an enemy…and _what_ could be _more_ personal than denying a man physical privacy?"

"Sure, it's stupid I agree, but I do what I'm told and that makes my life easier. I'm sorry that it makes yours more difficult. I feel bad about all of this. I've been watching the news. It's all been a fucking disgrace. You have a hell of a pretty wife, though. If you don't mind my saying."

"Yes, my wife is perfection."

Hannibal stopped shaving for a moment and thought of Clarice. He had often considered her during his incarceration so many years previous.

_You were so young and full of ambition my Love. I will never forget your bright eyes blazing back at me from behind the glass._

She had awakened a want within him. A want of freedom so that one day, he might see her again without the glass between. After his escape, though many years had passed he couldn't forget her bravery, her beauty, intelligence and wit. She was also as cunning as he. Deadly her many gifts, though she had yet to discover her power.

_You could pierce to my soul with a glance even then, Clarice. Though now, you know the power you hold._

The guard was impressed by what he had seen and heard, "She's a dedicated woman. That's hard to find now. Must be tough you being in here and her being out there."

"When you consider I spent more than eight years of my life housed in virtual isolation it should come as no surprise that I am quite accustomed to being handled in this way. It is disconcerting for my wife, however."

_I was a patient man. I waited years for you to come into your own hoping you would stay true to your nature. You did not disappoint me my Love, thus the focus of my existence became you. It remains you._

The guard nodded as he watched Hannibal. The warped image of his reflection in the faux mirror sent a shiver slowly bumping up the ridges of his spine. "You know she really freaked out when the paramedics were trying to resuscitate you. Your heart stopped a bunch of times."

"Did it? Yes, well, allergic reactions are a tricky business. I remember the dart striking my throat and falling away from Clarice. Then, I woke up here with a tremendous headache and almost no memory of the previous days. I am fortunate in that my wife loves me very much. I expect she was quite emotional."

Hannibal regarded his reflection for a brief moment before he began to shave the right side of his face. As he shifted his conscious thought to another time and place, within his mind, his reflection in the mirror was replaced with an Albrect Durer engraving. The demons were particularly detailed.

The guard had been watching the coverage and was intrigued by Hannibal's perception of his own predicament. He continued to speak as Hannibal shaved.

"Have they told you they're running the entire documentary tomorrow night? One of the editors said it's close to three hours long."

Hannibal was pleased to hear the documentary crew had put the material together so quickly. His expression reflected boredom though he was fully engaged.

"It is difficult to believe there will be anyone interested in viewing Doctor Bloom's egomaniacal rants."

The guard started to pull at his retractable keychain extending the cord and allowing it to snap back.

"I don't know about Bloom but people are _crazy_ curious about _you_. I honestly don't know anyone who _isn't_ going to watch it. You may not know it but you are a ratings machine! I've seen some of those entertainment shows and the hosts have been talking about how the networks and studios want to offer you millions to do a reality series."

Hannibal continued to shave and spoke very quietly without shifting his eyes to the guard. His voice was detached and remote, "Standing in a cold room as naked as the day my mother gave me birth, speaking to a complete stranger as he watches me shave is enough reality for me, thank you."

The guard shifted his stance now obviously uncomfortable with his task, "Sorry…I see what you mean…it sucks."

Hannibal lifted his chin, turned his face to the side and massaging the tendons of his neck paused for several seconds to consider the musculature and how might affect the line he took with the razor. He too wondered if the package he mailed to the White House had been sorted and reviewed yet. Counting the days and assessing the speed of his chosen method of shipment Hannibal decided it had definitely arrived and as such was being reviewed. His focus then shifted to the guard.

"You must please excuse my disposition. I am very moody as I have been away from my wife for far too long and if you have indeed seen footage of my stay you will agree the conditions of my incarceration have been less than stellar."

"I'm sorry, Doctor Lecter. This has got to be really a difficult time for you both."

Hannibal checked the edges of his sideburns turning his face from side to side in order to make certain they were even.

"Yes, more for my wife than myself. She's pregnant and as such, emotional. I consider this a temporary situation though she worries Bloom may attempt to keep me indefinitely."

Hannibal finished his shave quickly and returned the razor to the guard supervising him. He then stepped boldly into the shower. Turning on the water he was surprised to find it steaming hot. He washed himself quickly to take advantage of the abnormally comfortable temperature.

_Something tells me the water is warmer in the shower because of your absence Doctor Bloom. Obviously you have been limiting my access to hot water._

Hannibal felt refreshed and was beginning to towel off when Logan entered the shower area accompanied by the warden. Logan casually carried Hannibal's garment bag over his shoulder.

"Hey my friend…I've got your suit so you don't have to go to the meeting in your towel!"

Hannibal finished drying himself, flipped the towel over the tile divider and reached for the bag. He hooked the hanger over one of the showerheads.

"Thank you, Logan. I am certain the Egyptian Prime Minister will be far more comfortable now that my suit has arrived. I would have attended the meeting _au naturel_ before I would have been photographed in the presence of my pregnant wife wearing prison garb."

"Nah, you couldn't do that, Clarice would kill you! It's _your_ endowment, not the _national _endowment. I doubt she wants you to share it with the entire television viewing population."

Hannibal unzipped the bag and reached into the bottom and removed silk boxers and quickly stepped into the undergarment. "I must admit it has been quite some time since I truly appreciated the feel of a quality fabric compared to the course cotton of prison issue undergarments. Another day or so of this and I will be chafed indeed."

Logan elbowed the guard, leaned over and half-whispered, "Dude, why the hell were you standing around watching him anyway? What are you trying to catch a glimpse of the Hanniconda? You do know he's straight, right?"

The guard was embarrassed by the inference, "Jesus, I wasn't checking him out or anything! It's just that I was told to keep track of the razor."

"Dude, all you had to do was look at the fucking thing and make sure it was intact when he handed it back to you. I mean he's not a convict and it's really bad form to watch a guy take a shower. Not to mention it's kind of creepy, so, how about we give him a few minutes to handle his business. He can find his way out. It's not like he has more than one choice. He's just got to walk through the doorway."

The guard looked to the warden for an answer, "What do you want me to do, Sir?"

The warden turned and headed out the exit waving a hand for the others to follow.

"Give the man a chance to put his clothing on. Since we'll be escorting him to the meeting without the use of handcuffs, I'm sure we can trust him with his own damned clothes."

Logan waited until the other's left the shower room. "I'll be watching the doorway again. Do what you have to do."

"I'll be just a moment, Logan."

Logan laughed and clapped his hand on Hannibal's shoulder, "Just a moment, huh? It takes me a lot longer than that, especially without a video or a magazine."

Hannibal smiled, "Logan, I'll be dressing myself. That is all."

"No problem…just thought I'd help a brother out is all."

"You have already helped me immeasurably Logan. Thank you."

Logan beamed, "Anything for you!"

"And Logan?

"Yeah Buddy?"

"_Hanniconda_…Really?"

Logan turned around, raised his hands above his head in surrender as he headed toward the door and called back to Hannibal as he exited, "Hey, I was just sayin' what everyone was thinking!"

**Thanks to Twisted Love Stories for letting me borrow the **_**Hanniconda! **_**It was too funny my writing buddy! I couldn't resist using it! It fit Logan too perfectly!**

**Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	104. Chapter 104

**THE MEETING**

As a favor to the president and under the close supervision of the FBI, Hannibal was allowed to walk into the large meeting room without handcuffs or restraints of any kind.

Ardelia had just arrived to provide the requisite emotional support and sat beside Clarice furthest from the door. She smiled when she saw Logan walking quietly behind Hannibal much like an attending squire would follow his knight.

The Bashandi's were seated across from the pair of women, leaving a place at the head of the table for Hannibal. As Hannibal entered, Anwar Bashandi stood and directed his daughter to do the same.

"Doctor Lecter, please forgive my delay. I arrived as soon as I received word of your treatment."

Hannibal moved quickly across the room to greet the prime minister.

"There is no forgiveness necessary, Mister Prime Minister. I am humbled by your presence my friend." The men shared a warm handshake. The Prime Minister then stepped to the side and took his seat allowing his daughter to greet Hannibal. Mariyah was staring at the ground, embarrassed that her eyes were welling with emotion.

Tilting his head slightly to catch Mariyah's attention the good doctor spoke very gently, "_Tears_? Is that how good friends greet one another?" Hannibal smiled widely and extended his arms to the young lady.

When she realized he was offering an embrace she wiped her tears and looked to her father. The moment he nodded his assent, Mariyah ran from the table and threw herself into Hannibal's arms. He hugged her tightly as she pulled the back of his suit jacket to bring him closer.

Hannibal kissed the top of the young lady's head prompting a smile from Clarice. Hannibal winked at his wife and turned his attention back to the young lady in his arms.

The camera people leapt one over the other to capture the moment.

Mariyah buried her face against Hannibal's chest trying to hide her tears. "I was so worried about you, Doctor Lecter." The young lady had been well-raised and though, emotionally, she felt very close to Hannibal she understood that her age made it inappropriate for her to address him in any other way.

Hannibal held her as he spoke. "It is wonderful to see you as well, Mariyah. How have you been feeling? Did you do what I suggested?"

She lifted her face to look at him as she answered, "Yes sir, I did."

Hannibal leaned back, one arm still around her and the other lifting her chin with his thumb and index finger, "And did you see the improvement I predicted?"

She was proud to answer, "Yes, at first I felt a little silly about the process, but I did it anyway and I felt better immediately."

The journalists present began taking prodigious notes but had been told because of the pending competency hearing not to ask questions of Hannibal.

With a tender hand on her shoulder guiding her, Hannibal escorted Mariyah to her seat. He then looked to her father.

"She is doing well, Sir?" Hannibal inquired to the prime minister.

Bashandi was animated in his response, "Yes! Because of you she is thriving."

"I am heartened to hear it, though it is due more to her strength and the strength of her lineage than my own humble contribution. If you will excuse me, with your permission, I should like to greet my wife."

"Certainly, I insist."

Before welcoming his wife Hannibal greeted Ardelia with a friendly hug, "Thank you for your support of Clarice, Ardelia. She has shared with me how much your friendship comforts her. Knowing she has you has been a comfort to me as well."

"Thank you, Hannibal. That's so kind of you to say. I hope you know I'd do anything for you both."

"Yes, we do know that and believe me it means quite a lot to us." Hannibal helped her push in her chair as she took her seat. All the while his eyes were on Clarice.

"Hey H."

"Hay is for…"

Before he could finish the correction, Clarice cut him off.

"Don't even think about it, _Hannibal_!"

Hannibal moved around the table, took a knee and lowered his head level with her belly to address his child.

"It would seem I'm in trouble again, Little One. Mother called me Hannibal…not H…you know what that means don't you? She is upset with me again...shocking I know." He put his ear against her belly as he continued, "What? Yes I probably should apologize."

Hannibal took Clarice by the hand and looked up from her belly, "I shouldn't have attempted to correct you, my Love. Please accept my apology."

"Cut the crap, H."

He kissed her hand, lingering as he spoke, "Hmm, I love it when you talk dirty."

He stood and cautiously extended his wife's hand leading her to stand. He held her an arm's length away to admire her.

"Hello, my Love. You look magnificent as always."

Clarice smoothed the front of her dress to show her appreciation for the gifts, "Haven't you heard? My husband has great taste."

"Yes Clarice, though not in the clothing choice so much as the woman wearing them."

Hannibal tugged gently at her arm and pulled her close, much like a dancer would bring his partner to him. As Clarice entered his embrace Hannibal wrapped her in his arms and held her close kissing her very tenderly.

Comforted by his warmth and the strong thump of his heart, Clarice pressed her check against his chest and ran her hands up his back smoothing them across the span of his shoulders.

Knowing Hannibal could hear what others could not she whispered against his chest, "They brought in Danielson. He called me last night."

"Thank you, Clarice," he answered softly knowing it was an ambiguous enough statement not to draw attention if the microphones picked it up.

Hannibal kept his arms coiled around her. It was a very loving, very intimate, and very deliberate moment angled in full view of the press corps assembled and orchestrated wholly by Hannibal. None in attendance believed it anything less than a spontaneous expression. Not even Clarice, though it would neither have surprised nor angered her had he announced his intention.

Again, the photographers clamored, all climbing one over the other for the perfect angle from which to capture the moment. Hannibal did not shy from sharing his passion for his wife, though he was careful to be respectful of her.

Hannibal counted how many seconds passed, multiplied them by the split seconds it would take for the digital cameras to advance to the next frame and when he had decided the photo opportunity was sufficient he slowly pulled back from his wife.

As she sat Hannibal grazed the back of his hand along the side of her face as he did not wish the contact to end. Again, there was a strobe of camera flashes.

Prime Minister Bashandi was obviously comfortable with his role in this proceeding and waited for Hannibal to take his seat before continuing. "I have made several calls on your behalf, Doctor Lecter. The president himself guaranteed me he would look into the matter. Has your treatment improved?"

"Yes, I have been informed the court order for electroconvulsive therapy has been rescinded. I thank you for that."

Bashandi nodded, "And the isolation… Has that ceased as well?"

"Not as such, though the sessions are much less frequent and the duration has been shortened considerably. I am able to tolerate it without complaint."

"That will stop as of this night as well, I _assure_ you."

Bashandi leaned forward with his palms flat and arms stretched out on the table in front of him looking much like a lion waiting to pounce. His voice boomed from his body as he spoke.

"Now that we are all here we will discuss the matter of Doctor Hannibal Lecter for the _final _time!"

**BLOOM**

Bloom was directed to a situation room within the White House fully unaware that _he _was the situation causing all of the concern. He sat at what he correctly perceived would be the chair closest to where the president might sit. Had he known the mood of the president, he may have chosen differently.

Entering the room in a procession were several members of the president's staff, the surgeon general and Doctor Danielson now in private practice, formally from the sex reassignment center at Johns Hopkins. It was obvious by their simultaneous entrance they had been together in another location prior to this session. That was not good news for Bloom, though he was unaware of his tenuous position.

Bloom watched each of the men as they filed around the table and took their seats. No one spoke and though he thought it odd, he sat quietly and waited for the president. He would not wait long.

The president walked into the room briskly and took his seat. Each of the men in the room nodded a greeting but, again, none spoke. Finally the president broke the silence with seven words that sliced Bloom's heart in half.

"Bloom…what the _hell_ were you _thinking_?"

Doctor Alan Bloom looked around the room he had earlier believed would not only welcome him, but would praise his efforts. Now understanding the opposite to be true he was speechless for a moment as he attempted to gather his thoughts. He panicked, his chest expanded with increased respiration as sweat droplets pearled the width of his forehead.

Nervous but needing to defend himself, Bloom forced his lips to draw dry along his teeth, his voice cracked with concern, "Mr. President, I believe Doctor Lecter to be inherently damaged on a physiological level and have sought to prove his incompetency through a series of well-considered though admittedly controversial treatments."

The surgeon general spoke quietly as she outlined her position, "_Controversial treatments?_ Did you just refer to the blatant torture of a man whom the State of Maryland put in your trusted care as a level of _treatment?"_

"Yes. I was treating him. That is all. There was nothing in that protocol that would have harmed _him_. Let us not forget he is not an ordinary man, _if_ he is a man at all."

"You submitted Doctor Lecter to a series of isolation events of such extreme duration it would drive any _sane_ men to psychosis. You are correct that he is not an ordinary man and quite fortunate are you that his constitution, his intelligence, and his mental discipline are remarkable or we would be having a _very different_ conversation than the one we are having."

The president was obviously upset as he forcefully rapped his knuckles on the table to garner Bloom's attention. "Doctor Bloom your task…your _only_ task, was to issue Doctor Hannibal Lecter a test to determine his _current_ mental status and provide your _opinion_ of possible recidivism. No one asked you to move for an involuntary commitment."

Bloom stammered, "I…I had to do that he's… he is far too sophisticated for standardized testing. And his wife is pregnant. There is a baby involved."

The president would not accept the explanation, "You assured my office personally that you would be able to frame the questions of the test in such a way as to disguise the intent and get results. Now you complain that he is too sophisticated! And what about his wife and child; what does that have to do with you?"

"He isn't fit to be a father," Bloom stated with conviction and an air of flagrant moral superiority.

The president was furious and pounded his fist on the table causing the water glasses to jump. His voice boomed, "This is the damned United States of America! We don't preemptively abduct children from loving homes, and we don't issue goddamned tests to determine parental qualifications!"

Bloom truly believed he was the only sane man in the room. His voice was as elevated as his heart rate, "He is a _convicted killer_!"

The president stood and pointed his finger in Bloom's face, his voice shaking with anger, "I don't give a damn if he's Jack the Ripper! You were told to _assess_ him, not to _judge_ him. He may be a convicted killer but he's a convicted killer that has an _official _commutation of _all_ his sentences with _my_ damned signature on it!"

Bloom covered his ears and shook his head as if trying to rid himself of an irritating infestation, "He is impossible to test. He's always a step ahead. He gets in your mind…_he gets in your mind!"_

The president took a deep breath and sat. "When we first spoke you were more than confident in your ability to flank his perception and now he's impossible to test? Did you record the testing?"

Bloom brushed off his tie, as well as the inquiry, as if it were an insult to his intelligence, "No, I made no such attempt. My memory is impeccable as is my ability to take detailed notes."

The president continued, "Were you aware that that your patient recorded the session in its entirety and forwarded the recording to my office with a request that it be judged independently? His note detailed your relationship to Frederick Chilton, some of the abuses Doctor Lecter suffered under his care and your direction, and the request that Doctor Danielson be involved. It arrived several days ago. I believe the judge in this case has received a copy as well."

"So what is that supposed to mean to me. I am above reproach in this," Bloom groused.

"I am the President of the United States and thanks to _your_ incompetence even _I'm_ not above reproach in this! Doctor Danielson has reviewed the information along with several well respected psychiatrists and the Surgeon General as well. Each has expert has reviewed the tape and evaluated it independent from one another. Can you guess what the outcome of _their _assessment was?"

Bloom's heart began to fibrillate causing an uncomfortable flutter against his chest wall. He shifted in his seat and placed a hand over his heart as if the motion might steady it. He then sucked in a breath and braced himself as he spoke with bravado, "I am certain my learned colleagues will have agreed with my evaluation."

The president gestured for Doctor Danielson to speak. The man, familiar with Bloom because of the Buffalo Bill case, looked at him and shook his head, "No, Alan…I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on with you, this seems so out of character, but I can't agree with either your initial diagnosis or with your treatment protocol."

"But you agree...with_ must_ agree with my diagnosis. You agree that he's psychotic?"

Danielson disagreed, "No. I don't know whether or not he has been psychotic in the past but at this point in time he's not psychotic."

"A _sociopath_ at the _very least_," Bloom encouraged.

Danielson shook his head. He felt sorry for Bloom. He was alone in that sentiment.

"No, I'm sorry Alan. Even if one discounts the answers to the questions he gave you and chalks it up to his thorough knowledge of the test, the life he is leading is far beyond the capacity of a sociopath. It is obvious he loves his wife deeply and he's shown a significant amount of empathy for others. Even those he is not close to. He helped his elderly neighbor when she was attacked and he sacrificed his freedom and his own safety to help find Mariyah Bashandi. A sociopath is not capable of that."

"So, what do you think…that he's _cured_?" Bloom taunted, "He was doing all those things while he was killing people and sautéing their organs!"

Danielson corrected, "I'm not saying he's cured because I was not a part of his treatment team at Baltimore State Forensic but I can tell you that in the past he did not illustrate the ability to form a loving relationship."

Bloom took on a very aggressive and defensive posture, "How do you know that? He was seeing lots of women."

Danielson flipped through a manila folder on the conference table and checked his facts. He then spoke with confidence, "I know because after I watched the tape of your interview with him I took it upon myself to review all of the available FBI files on Doctor Lecter. Clarice Starling was extremely thorough and interviewed each and every one of his past romantic partners. They all describe Lecter the same way: attentive to their physical needs, thoughtful, very generous with gifts but emotionally remote and very guarded about his past. None knew anything of his family, where he was born, or of his personal habits when they were not with him. None had even spent the night in his home. I spoke with Clarice on the phone this morning and she knows everything about him, including very specific events in his past that he had never before shared. She describes him as extremely loving and their relationship as being unusually close. She tells me he will answer any question she puts to him honestly. Sociopaths are not open or loving. They don't sacrifice for others. They don't show empathy. Doctor Hannibal Lecter has illustrated each of these traits, rather publicly I might add. His wife is unwavering in her support of him."

Bloom's hypnotic arrogance kicked in, "I have no interest in the opinion of the _dam_ he chose to _sire_ his _whelp_."

There was a gasp and a collective look of disbelief among the participants. The surgeon general spoke very directly, "Doctor Bloom your handling of this case has been so grossly deficient that we are considering having the medical board investigate revoking your license to practice medicine."

"There is nothing about the treatment of Hannibal Lecter that can be considered serious enough to revoke my license! I've been using cutting edge evaluation methods. He is extremely savvy and as such, I needed to get him out of his comfort zone. I needed to shake the tree to loosen the fruit."

The president had a compromise planned, "Look, this has been a public relations nightmare. We may be able to find a way past this but only if we all work together. I suggest we hold a public press conference tomorrow at the prison where you will announce your finding that Hannibal Lecter is indeed sane and that you are filing a petition with the court to cancel the competency hearing. An apology to Doctor Lecter and a nice handshake, maybe a friendly pat on the back or two for all the cameras would be great. If you do that, we may be able to help you protect your license. If not, when the medical board investigates and moves to pull it, instead of a friend in the White House who has your back you will find an enemy who stabs you in it. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes…yes we understand each other… perfectly." Bloom grumbled like a spoiled child.

"What is your answer?" the president coaxed.

"Fine…I'll do it." Bloom spat out the sentence as if the words were coated in bile.

The president reached out his hand and shook Bloom's, "I appreciate you helping us out with this, Alan. It's a tricky business. We will arrange the press conference and will send a car for you…Noon. Be ready."

"Yes, Mister President…I'll be ready…I'll be very ready indeed!"

The president as his staff waited as the chief of staff escorted Bloom from the room and out to the waiting car.

Bloom stared out the window throughout the ride home. He entered his house with purpose, went to the front foyer and took out his medical bag. He reached it the drawer of the hall table, retrieved the Harpy and set the bag down. He pushed around briefly to retrieve an item located at the bottom of the bag. He reached for the blood pressure cuff and unrolled it. Taking the Harpy out of the box, he then rolled it in a very small piece of bubble wrap and taped it closed. Next, Bloom pulled back the Velcro flap on the interior and slipped the puffed up and neatly packaged Harpy within. He secured the flap and wrapped the cuff around itself. He squeezed it to make sure the knife could not be felt within the partially inflated cuff. When he was satisfied, Bloom tightly wrapped the tubing around the cuff and tucked the device in his bag for the trip to the prison the following day.

Bloom then settled himself on a chair and prepared to watch the documentary of his exploits unfold. He was certain the exhibition of his activities would be his public redemption. He was confident and unafraid.

_One of us will live and one of us will die tomorrow, Hannibal. Sleep well tonight for it will be your last._

**Review and let me know what you think, then drop me a PM and say Hi! **

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	105. Chapter 105

**Welcome my friends to Bloom's Demise! Enjoy!**

**LH**

**BLOOM'S DOOM**

Doctor Allen Bloom, along with a very large share of the national television viewing audience sat down at eight p.m. eastern standard time to watch the documentary, _Inside the Mind of a Madman: Doctor Alan Bloom vs. Doctor Hannibal Lecter_. It was being shown on a national cable network as the material was far too graphic for standard broadcast networks.

The documentary team had been scrambling since the meeting with Bashandi and Hannibal in order to review, edit and include the footage from the meeting in the film. Before the film began a very long disclaimer and viewer warning was flashed on the screen explaining the content would be inappropriate for young viewers and those with delicate sensibilities. Extreme viewer discretion was advised.

Clarice prepared to the watch the presentation in the company of Ardelia and Logan. Thankfully, Hannibal had convinced Clarice of his ability to transcend the pain of the treatments and she had seen a good deal of the raw footage on the internet therefore she was prepared for the graphic nature of the content. As a precaution, Hannibal insisted if she watched the presentation she do so with friends in the event her emotions generate medical complications.

Logan was absolutely ecstatic. So excited was he about the event he ordered pizza, purchased snacks, picked up his favorite micro-brew and set up his own massive buffet on the coffee table in the living room. He wanted to invite Lloyd and Barney but Ardelia put a stop to the idea not wanting a carnival atmosphere. She worried Clarice might become emotional and didn't want her friend surrounded if she began to feel vulnerable or cry.

Logan understood and although he would watch with Ardelia and Clarice alone, he had prepared for the event as if preparing to watch a championship football game.

Sitting in the center of the couch he carefully balanced a beer in one hand and a paper plate, bowing from the weight of several slices of pizza, in the other. Logan unceremoniously dropped one of his sandaled feet onto the end of the table and crossed the other over it.

Putting down the beer he picked up the remote and aimed it, turning on the television just as he allowed the tip of his pizza slice to dip onto his tongue. After testing the heat of the cheesy triangle, he chomped at it and ripped off a large hunk. The food rolled around his mouth as he spoke, "This will be absolutely epic! There is no way Bloom's career survives this shit!"

"I'm surprised_ Hannibal _survived this shit!" Ardelia commented as she stared at Logan's horrific table manners. "Seriously, do you expect us to eat here with you chewing like a cow with your mouth hanging open and food falling out all over the place?"

Logan made no apologies, "Just enjoying my food, that's all! You don't like it. Don't look!"

Ardelia moved to sit beside Logan on the couch. As she passed, Ardelia shoved Logan's feet off the coffee table. "Boy, get those big, dirty ass feet of yours off the table!"

Logan was unfazed as he sat up and grabbed another slice, "Hey, you know what they say about dudes with big feet!"

"Yeah, they wear big shoes." Ardelia replied sarcastically. "Not to mention you wear a size 10. That's just average."

"Hey, what can I say? Anyway, it's not the size of the boat that counts it's the motion in the ocean!"

Logan sat up and continued eating without missing a beat. As he pulled the pizza from the box he allowed the mozzarella to slough off his slice like an avalanche slipping off a cliff. It plopped with a splat onto the table.

Ardelia grabbed a napkin and moved to clean the mess but before she could accomplish her task, Logan reached down, pinched the cheese, held it high above his head and allowed it to drop into his mouth much like a trainer would feed a seal.

Horrified, Ardelia slapped him lightly, "Jesus, Logan! Your home training is_ seriously_ lacking. If I didn't know how lovely your parents are I'd swear to god you were raised in a barn!"

"Nope, I was raised in a house on the beach. Guess it was a lot like a barn though…tracked lots of sand inside so it's kind of the same. Mom vacuumed a lot!"

"Why am I not surprised?" Ardelia commented as she snuggled up against him on the couch. She shifted her attention to Clarice. "Hey girl, you okay?"

Clarice downplayed her quiet concern, "Yeah, no worries Dee…I'm good."

Without the presence of Hannibal, Clarice was forced to comfort herself by holding her belly to cradle the baby within. She found herself thankful Hannibal recommended she stay the night at the duplex. Logan was an entertaining and welcome distraction.

Ardelia, ever the skeptic, questioned, "Are you sure? This isn't going to be easy for you to watch. That son of a bitch Bloom really pushed the envelope of human decency. I'm sure they didn't even leak the worst of it to the internet."

Clarice nodded an affirmation, "I know he's safe and I know after tonight, there isn't anything Bloom can do to him. He'll be pulled from the case and even if they put another psychiatrist on the case they can't hold him much longer. No… no matter what happens on this film I can handle it. _I'm_ only_ watching_ it. _H _had to _live _it."

Logan shrugged off Clarice's concern, "Hell, I _want _to see what he did to Hannibal. It just makes him even _more_ epic in my book! They haven't made the cage that can hold that dude and they haven't found a man who can break him. Hannibal Lecter is a fucking god!"

Clarice played off the excitement understanding how much Logan looked up to her husband.

"He's just a man, Logan, but he's _my_ man and I'm sick to death that all the assholes of the world keep lining up to try and take him from me."

Understanding that her words were poor comfort but feeling the need to say something, Ardelia offered, "Knowing your husband he's probably been screwing with Bloom as much as Bloom has been screwing with him. Unless he gagged Hannibal the entire time that man will probably never be the same."

Ardelia had no way of knowing how close to reality that statement had been.

Clarice laughed. "It's true…H can get more done with a whisper than most men can with a scream."

"Damn straight!" Logan added as he pulled Ardelia close and tossed back a beer.

Suddenly, a hush fell across the room as the documentary began. Clarice held her breath and braced herself for what she was about to see.

While the world watched the documented _treatment_ of Hannibal Lecter, the man himself rested on his bunk and enjoyed his first moments of real solitude in two weeks. With the documentary complete and the film crew gone, the camera had been removed from his cell. For the first time in two weeks, he was alone in his cell though his thoughts were far from that place.

Not wishing to view the documentary with an audience as had been suggested by the production company Hannibal graciously declined to view it at all.

Instead, he chose to stroll along the streets of Florence with Clarice on his arm. He decided they would spend the night in a suite at the Relais Santa Croce as the food was exceptional and he believed Clarice would enjoy the frescoed ceilings. He closed his eyes and imagined a warm, sunny day with Clarice's arms around him as they walked. He could feel his hand resting on the small of her back. He could feel her muscles flex as her hips swayed from side to side. He took a deep breath, the inhalation calling the memory of Clarice's personal scent to him.

_Clarice…you are perfection. _

Doctor Alan Bloom was enjoying the presentation immensely as he had no qualms about any of the procedures being shown. He was, in fact, quite proud of his ingenuity though it did not seem to dawn on him that he hadn't gotten answers to even one of the questions put to Hannibal during these sessions. This was a fact not lost on the viewing public.

As suggested to him by Hannibal as the coin rolled over his knuckles, the ability to continually initiate pain was itself the only true goal. The questions proffered were merely an excuse by which he could continue to administer the negative reinforcement. In his almost trance-like state of semi-awareness Bloom considered the torment of Hannibal Lecter a direct barometer of his elevated status.

Therefore, during the portion of the documentary when the journalist asked him pointed questions about the possible need to provide some form of palliative care for Hannibal, Bloom's callous disregard was met by the whole of the viewership, save Bloom himself, with absolute horror.

Clarice was curious about one thing and hoped it would be the focus of one of the show's segments. She waited with anticipation when as the clips began to roll of Mariyah being interviewed. There was one question she wanted answered and hoped the reporter wanted the answer as well.

The view on the television was of Mariyah, still sitting at the conference table, though now in the seat previously held by Hannibal. The reporter leaned forward and began to question, "Mariyah, you seemed to be quite excited to see Hannibal."

Mariyah considered the familiarity insulting and corrected, "_Doctor_ Lecter. I was quite excited to see Doctor Lecter, yes."

"He asked you if you completed a task he suggested. Would you care to explain what that task was?"

"It's…it's difficult to describe…I can read you the email if you like. I think Doctor Lecter's words would explain it far better than I can."

Mariyah reached into her bag, unfolded a piece of paper and began to read:

_**Dear Mariyah, **_

_**I hope this note finds you well and with your feet firmly set on the road to recovery. **_

_**I have a task for you that I believe will help you to heal. I have sent a package to you. It will arrive within the week. It is a small length of the rope used to restrain you. Your blood is on the rope.**_

_**You are familiar no doubt with your ancestors and their burial rituals. The practice of mummification is what is of interest to us here. As I am certain you are aware, canopic jars were utilized. Purchase a canopic jar, might I suggest Qebekh-sennuef, the one of the four sons of Horus who guarded the intestines as intestinal fortitude is the trait of any survivor. If you are unfamiliar, the animal head depicted on the lid of the jar will be that of a falcon.**_

_**When the rope arrives I bid you to rinse your blood from the rope. Watch carefully as your life's fluid, that sticky crimson serum, swirls and circles in a tiny whirlpool and disappears down the drain. As the blood lessens and the water clears, bid the fleeting fluid to carry all of your fears and anxiety with it. **_

_**Next, soak the rope in an aromatic substance or spice, and wrap it in a piece of white linen. Carry the jar and the wrapped linen parcel with you to a remote place. This should be a place with which you are familiar but one that offers privacy as well. **_

_**The next bit may seem silly but it is very important you trust me as it may prove life-changing.**_

_**Wailing in grief is also a custom of your people. Look down into the depths of that jar and cry out all your hurt and misery into that darkness. Cry out to the bottom all of your pain and your sorrow and when you have emptied the anguish of your soul into that vessel, place the parcel within, seal the jar, and bury it were you can never be burdened by its contents again.**_

_**Know that you are ever on my mind and always in my heart. If I should one day be blessed with a daughter I pray she has the same courage and grace to face the troubles of life that you have shown. **_

_**My best to you and to your family,**_

_**Hannibal Lecter, M.D.**_

The camera moved for a close-up as Mariyah folded the paper and placed it in her purse.

The reporter leaned in, "And did it help you? Was he right?"

Mariyah, tears of relief spilling over her eyelids. She made no attempt to hide her emotions.

"That was the first night since this happened I didn't wake up in a cold sweat not remembering where I was. I love Doctor Lecter. He made me feel safe. He gave me my life back. He gave me my smile. With his help and through his friendship I found peace. I want to help him find peace as well. I want to see him holding his baby. I want to see him smile."

"Jesus…Jesus…" Clarice stared at the television with her mouth agape, stunned at how simple, yet how profound the task Hannibal set forth had been and how elegant and dignified the young lady was as she spoke of her situation.

Ardelia whispered quietly, "Wow…Clarice…wow."

Logan, being Logan, shook his head and blurted out, "That was some deep shit people…that was some really deep shit!"

The film continued to reveal Bloom's mishandling of the case and the staff at the prison attempting to find ways to ease Hannibal's discomfort. Hannibal himself could not be interviewed as his case was pending in the court.

Clarice watched all of the physical torment Hannibal endured, all of the mental abuse displayed without reacting. She was prepared for that. She had hardened herself, honed her edges to absorb the cut.

What she did not expect, nor could she handle was a close-up of Hannibal just before lights out the night before the documentary aired. He was told the cameras were going to be removed in the morning and was there anything he wanted to say to his wife.

Hannibal looked into the camera and stretched his hand toward the lens as if reaching out to touch Clarice. He spoke in a low, husky tone, his voice rich with emotion, "Goodnight, my Love…I'll be home soon."

He then rolled onto his left side away from the camera and all of the lights were shut off. He was asleep…Alone. This was the moment, in all of this, when Clarice could truly see her husband's pain. She broke down and began to sob uncontrollably.

Bloom, arrogant to the last, was irritated by the sentimental moment and used the break to get up and go to the bathroom. He missed the part of the documentary that provided vital information as to how the following day would go.

The reporter stood to give her final thoughts.

"Inside the Mind of a Madman: Doctor Alan Bloom vs. Doctor Hannibal Lecter seemed on the surface to be an interesting insight into what does and does not constitute sanity. All involved believed we would be frightened by Hannibal Lecter. Terrified to be in his presence, several longtime crew members withdrew from the project and replacements had to be called in.

Doctor Alan Bloom, again, on the surface, seemed a thought- provoking and sensitive man. He seemed to care only about the welfare of the Lecter's child. Again we are speaking about appearances, not reality.

What we found during our two week shoot is that Doctor Hannibal Lecter is a well-mannered, well-adjusted individual with a bit of a problem. His problem was not a debilitating mental illness, or the burden of insanity. No, his only problem was Doctor Alan Bloom. A man so bent on the destruction of Hannibal Lecter and the dissolution of his family that he sought to do physical and emotional harm to achieve that goal.

This film became less about exploring the mind of a serial killer and more a living document recording the downward spiral of a once well-respected individual, Doctor Alan Bloom.

Inside the mind of a madman achieved its goal, although the madman wasn't who we expected. It wasn't Hannibal Lecter, who for all intents and purposes seemed to be saner than most people affiliated with this production. The madman it seems is Doctor Alan Bloom.

**THE MOMENT OF TRUTH: Defending honor**

Bloom didn't turn on the television before leaving his home the following morning. He was too excited to be meeting again with the president. Bloom truly believed the footage offered fully exonerated him. He was preparing himself, not for the apology he was to make to Hannibal Lecter. No, he was preparing for the apology he believed the president would be making to him.

He believed he had forced Hannibal Lecter into submission. He believed the entire world would genuflect before him. He imagined he might help to raise the child. And perhaps Clarice…

_If I am able to delve so deeply into the mind of Hannibal Lecter after only two weeks, imagine what I will be able to achieve if given his nine consecutive life sentences with which to work. Hannibal would be at my mercy._ _Oh, if Fred were here to see this! I almost hope he doesn't have time to kill himself. When he attempts it perhaps I will stop him. They will consider me a hero and Hannibal a danger. He will be transferred to my care and will be my most celebrated trophy. He will be my crowning achievement and I will receive what I so richly deserve._

Bloom finished readying for the day as he talked himself into a wonderful stupor of self-importance, continuing to fantasize as he dressed in his best suit for the day's events.

_Who knows…maybe the Nobel Prize? Accolades will be cast upon me like crowns of laurel but I must appear to remain humble as it would be unseemly, at least initially, to be a braggart. No I will allow others to discuss my greatness. I have only to sit back and enjoy._

Clarice showered and readied to put on her go-to black dress.

_Sure…you had two suits in your garment bag and I wore my only nice dress yesterday. Great planning H…usually you are more on top of things than that. You should know better than to leave me to my own devices when I'm this upset._

Still wrapped in a towel on her half of the duplex there was a knock on her bedroom door.

"Hey, Clarice…something was just delivered here for you. It's got a note attached."

Clarice opened the door to find Ardelia standing in the hallway with a garment bag holding a note in Hannibal's impeccable copperplate.

"That man makes every other guy alive look like crap." Ardelia commented as she handed Clarice the items.

Clarice accepted the bag with a smile. "I told you…He's one of a kind, Dee."

"We'll be ready to leave in half an hour so do you think you can put on your pretty new whatever and meet us downstairs by then?"

"Sure…I'll be ready."

Clarice opened the small note.

_**Clarice, **_

_**We have come to the end of the ordeal. Enjoy the dress and please bring my good luck charm. **_

_**Do smile, my Love. We sleep together tonight. **_

_**Ever yours, **_

_**H**_

Clarice opened the bag to reveal a deep teal dress. She expected the color remembering the second suit in Hannibal's garment bag was a deep steel grey double breasted suit with a deep teal tie. An elegant silver necklace hung from the hanger. Within the envelope along with the note was the item he requested she bring along.

_So this is your lucky charm? Okay. It comes with me. I hope you know what you're doing H. If this all goes to hell it could get really ugly, really fast!_

Clarice, Ardelia, and Logan arrived at the prison an hour before the press conference was to begin. Clarice requested to see Hannibal before the meeting but it had been disallowed due to security concerns. With the president soon to arrive, they didn't want the additional worry of moving Hannibal Lecter form his cell before the officials were in place.

The car arrived for Bloom at eleven forty-five. The driver had watched the documentary and was mumbling to himself the entire ride to Bloom's home. He was not pleased to have to deal with a man whose mental health, he believed was severely compromised. He accepted the assignment on the condition he be allowed to drive the limo that was outfitted with a glass panel dividing the driver's section of the car from the passenger's area.

Bloom finished the note Hannibal instructed, placed it within the bag along with a set of scalpels he was told to include. The doctor waited impatiently at his front door for the car to arrive looking down the street in both directions hoping his neighbors might see him being picked up.

It was a cold March day, windy, and as such the neighborhood was quiet. He had no idea how many of his neighbors were watching the live news feeds covering the press conference. He had no idea the medical board had announced an investigation. His world was coming down around him and he was oblivious to his fall from grace.

He was unaware the president had watched the documentary and was now intending to fully distance himself from the situation. The avalanche of public opinion was hurtling down the mountainside and Bloom was clueless at its base. Bloom was not only being thrown under the proverbial bus, it was being parked on his back.

The driver exited his vehicle with the distinct purpose of going to the door and escorting Bloom to his car. Much to the driver's surprise, Bloom, excited at the prospect of the apology he assumed he would be receiving, came bounding down the stairs to the car swinging his medical bag beside him.

Bloom enjoyed the ride to the prison, imagining watching Hannibal's innards wax across the prison floor.

The president arrived with his entourage minutes after Bloom. Doctor Alan Bloom was being escorted through the security checkpoint as the president arrived.

The guard searching Bloom's medical bag looked away, distracted by the arrival of the president. He dumped the contents, ran his hands over the inside and while looking at the president, lifted the blood pressure cuff and squeezed it, not feeling the knife, dropped the cuff into the medical bag he moved for the next objects.

Suddenly one of the supervisors noticed something and interrupted.

"Hey, Davis, What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What?"

"You can't send that in with him!"

"What?"

The supervisor rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag. He looked within and spotted the contents. He then looked onto the table, grabbed several clamps and placed them within the bag.

"The clamps are okay but this can't go in the bag."

The supervisor picked up several scalpels. "You can't have something like this in the room with the president."

"Yeah, but that's medical stuff." Officer Davis defended.

"You can't send something that can be used offensively into a room with the president."

The supervisor confiscated the scalpels and sent the bag, Harpy included, in with Bloom.

_Well, Hannibal, the game is afoot, so to speak. You would have done well not to challenge me. Your wife will see you dripping in blood! _

Bloom had no idea how prophetic his thoughts would prove to be.

Hannibal was informed the judge ordered his immediate release based on the bias of Doctor Bloom, the evaluation of Doctor Danielson and the input of the surgeon general.

Hannibal was told his wife had been informed as well. The officer removed Hannibal from the cell and allowed him to walk freely to the shower. Hannibal showered without benefit of an audience and was allowed to dress in privacy. Just before being escorted to the press conference Hannibal heard a knock at the door. He opened it to see Logan.

"Hello, my friend. I was told I wouldn't be allowed visitors. Clarice requested a visit but it was disallowed."

"I'm here in an official capacity. They were sending a bunch of jack-booted thugs from the secret service to escort you but I asked if I could come up and get you myself. Clarice sends her love and this."

Logan flipped the coin used to hypnotize Bloom to Hannibal who caught it mid-air.

"See said it's for good luck."

"It is indeed, thank you."

Logan opened the door widely and held it open for Hannibal to exit. "Now let's go watch that bastard Bloom crash and burn!"

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, I assure you."

Hannibal, Logan by his side, entered the press conference. There was a large table in the center of the prison's intake area. It was the largest section of the prison that was secured and offered a variety of options for the secret service to move the president in and out safely.

Hannibal scanned the area quickly assessing the direction the president would be leaving, in the event a weapon was produced. He also evaluated the seating and memorized with a glance the order in which each of the participants would be sitting. Hannibal was prepared.

Bloom entered and held his medical bag up, wagging it in Hannibal's direction in order to signal he had been successful. He yelled across to Hannibal, his voice dripping arrogance, "Hey, Lecter…how's your blood pressure?"

Hannibal smiled a wicked smile. "Perhaps before this is over you would like to _test me_?"

"It will be my pleasure, Hannibal…my pleasure."

The president entered in the company of Anwar Bashandi. Mariyah followed closely behind. Chairs were lined up in a semi-circle surrounding a podium that was outfitted with a bouquet of microphones.

On the left of the podium sat the president and the Egyptian prime minister with Mariyah and Clarice seated at the end of the row. Clarice spent her time holding Mariyah's hand and talking to the young lady. Mariyah was curious about Hannibal and was busying Clarice with questions.

The right side of the podium was seated Doctor Bloom, Doctor Danielson, the surgeon general and Hannibal. Not that the president didn't trust Lecter, but he felt it best if Bloom and Hannibal were not in close proximity and he felt safest in the presence of Bloom. He might have made another choice had he known Bloom's tenuous state of mind.

The president spoke and thanked Egyptian Prime Minister Bashandi and his daughter Mariyah for their assistance in the case of Hannibal Lecter. He also thanked the surgeon general and Doctor Danielson for their efforts to evaluate the material Doctor Bloom generated.

_Bloom heard only the following: BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, Hannibal Lecter, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH! _

He didn't pay attention until his ear caught the final segment of the speech and clued Bloom to his situation.

"And in closing, I am sure everyone in the room saw the presentation last night. Everyone, with the exception of Doctor Hannibal Lecter, I am told.

Doctor Lecter, I don't blame you for not wanting to view the film. May I offer my apologies for what you were forced to endure under the guise of medical treatment. Please know that there will be a series of investigations and may I say I am impressed not only with your grace under extreme duress, but also the restraint you exhibited.

You will be released following this press conference and will be escorted to your home, a fully exonerated man to begin your healing. Doctor Alan Bloom would like to make a statement that I will assume will contain a very overdue apology. Doctor Bloom, if you please."

Bloom reached into his bag, unrolled the blood pressure cuff from within, tore off the bubble wrap, and palmed the Harpy. He then arrogantly took the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank the president for his somewhat pathetic promise of support, and the Egyptian prime minister for his sycophantic concern, however misplaced it was. It has been judged by minds nowhere near as experienced as mine, that Doctor Hannibal Lecter does not pose a serious risk to the general public. As such he will be immediately unleashed…excuse me, _released_ to the general public. While I don't agree with this assessment, I'm bound by it and will defer to my semi-learned and easily manipulated colleagues. While I don't feel bound to apologize to Hannibal Lecter, I will apologize to his wife for any pain this process caused her."

Bloom left the podium and walked toward Clarice, the Harpy resting in his hand. Clarice leaned over and sought to make eye contact with her husband.

Hannibal stood.

His mind tumbled as he sensed not fear from Bloom, but aggression. Hannibal felt a sudden rush of panic and quickly moved forward, obviously agitated.

The president became hyper-vigilant as Hannibal moved closer causing the secret serviceman assigned to the president to move in Hannibal's direction in the event he needed to intercept.

_Stay back young man, I don't wish to harm… _

In his periphery Hannibal had already spotted the man and would not chance he might halt him from reaching Clarice. He slowly moved away from the agent and positioned himself in front of the podium certain to be in full view of the cameras.

"What's going on here?" the president questioned.

Hannibal held a hand up and waved for the president to move back. "I am not certain of Doctor Bloom's intention toward my wife. I would move away were I you, Mr. President."

"What do you mean Bloom's intention? Lecter what's happening?" the president persisted.

"I think Bloom means to harm my wife. It would be best if you were not here."

Hannibal redirected his attention to Bloom cautious to keep his voice was very calm, "Doctor Bloom, please do not approach my wife as she is pregnant and I am extremely protective of her. Please focus your attention on me…your quarrel is not with Clarice."

Bloom walked behind Clarice. She did not shift her attention to Bloom but looked at Hannibal, her eyes filled with questions.

Bloom answered with a pompous flair, "Yes, Hannibal my quarrel _is _with you, as _you_ _alone_ have taken _everything_ from me…"

Doctor Alan Bloom opened the Harpy and held it low behind Clarice keeping it shielded from everyone save Hannibal. "…now before I die I intend to take everything from you as well."

Hannibal's adrenalin surged at the sight of the knife so close to Clarice. His mind flooded with images. Colors swirled within his mind as flashes of blood red and pools of molten rage boiled within. He breathed deeply, his lungs the bellows fanning the red-hot anger within.

Hannibal's pulse raced as he remembered the dream he had not long ago…Nico cutting Clarice and tearing the child from her womb. He could feel his anguish at that moment, watching the light leave her eyes. He could hear the crack of the bones as Nico killed his child. Though it was but a dream, he could not imagine reliving that moment.

_I will kill you here…in front of everyone…in front of the cameras, I will rip the life from you before you will harm my Love._

"I will not allow you to harm her." Hannibal asserted.

Bloom laughed, "You cannot stop me."

As Bloom wrapped his left arm across her throat and reached across her belly, he pressed the hooked tip of the blade into her flesh. A small bead of blood began to form.

Hannibal was intensely focused on Bloom as his hypersensitive senses began to process the overwhelming flood of stimuli. He struggled to filter out the unnecessary input as his nostril's flared.

_Clarice's blood._

Clarice felt the pinch of the Harpy's claw, "H…I feel pain…H?"

Seeking to calm, Hannibal's voice and demeanor remained passive. "You are fine, Clarice…I have everything _in hand_."

Hannibal quickly pulled the coin from his pocket held it in front of Bloom to garner his attention.

Bloom's eyes flashed interest as Hannibal began to roll the shining silver across his knuckles.

"Do you trust me, Clarice?" Hannibal questioned as he stared at Bloom to keep his focus.

Clarice understood what Hannibal was doing and nodded her approval, "More than anything, H."

Hannibal watched Bloom's respirations and began to match the patterns of his speech with Bloom's inhalations and exhalations. His voice was very low, soothing even.

"Alan, you do not want Clarice to die. You do not want my child to die. You meant to protect them. Protect them now. Leave Clarice…Come…_kill me, _Alan."

Hannibal halted the coin, held it on its edge between his thumb and index finger obverse side facing Bloom and extended it in full view of the beleaguered forensic psychiatrist.

Bloom followed suit, extending the Harpy in exactly the same manner finally revealing it to all assembled.

Someone in the audience spotted the knife and screamed, "Bloom's got a weapon! He's got a weapon."

Suddenly, the secret service members scrambled, grabbed the president, the prime minister and Mariyah, rushing them quickly from the room. Mariyah screamed Hannibal's name as she was dragged away.

Cameras flashed as Hannibal moved very slowly, cautiously, ever closer to Bloom as he began rolling the coin over each of his knuckles, passing the coin under his palm with his thumb over and over again.

Bloom's attention fixated on the coin, though he did not lessen his grip on Clarice.

The small contingency of secret service members attending to the president and the Bashandi's were now safely transporting the group from the area and back to the white house. As this was a prison there were no guns allowed, only mace cannons. Several correctional officers aimed their mace but were concerned about endangering Clarice. None wanted to be the man who fired and caused the child to be killed within her.

Bloom stood his ground wearing his hypnotic courage like armor, unafraid.

"I wonder Hannibal, when you first received the news your wife was with child did you expect her to die on the same day your baby was born? Not that the child will live much longer than his mother. Wouldn't a C-section with the point of your Harpy be an appropriate way to bring your pathetic progeny into the world? Though it is doubtful the fruit of your poisoned loins will survive with only the hardened cement floor to catch him as he spills from your wife's rancid womb."

"Let Clarice go, Allen and you may yet survive to live with your shame," Hannibal warned as he continued to slowly walk forward.

Bloom seemed not to notice how much distance Hannibal had closed as his eyes continued to follow the coin. "I will let her go when her legs give way. I assume that will be the moment your filial flesh slips from her bloodied body," Bloom taunted as he watched the coin continually pass over and under Hannibal's hand.

Suddenly Hannibal palmed the coin. Bloom's eyebrows knitted together in displeasure.

Hannibal watched the muscles in Bloom's arms to attempt to predict when he should move. He very slowly inched forward. The tip of the blade pierced a bit more.

Clarice flinched not only from the pain, but from fear for their child, "H…H…the baby…Our baby!"

Hannibal's heart pounded within his chest thumping his terror as the organ punched against his sternum, "Give me the blade Allen and on my honor I will slit my throat in front of you. Let Clarice go and I promise you that I will pour my life out into your hands."

Knowing Hannibal did not lie and would absolutely do what he promised if Bloom relented, Clarice called out in fear, "No, H…No!"

Allen Bloom tightened his grip on Clarice's throat crushing the words within.

"She will die before you, Hannibal. It will make your last moments on this earth very, very painful."

Hannibal closed in further and now believed he was within striking distance. His mind was performing the permutations to confirm his prediction as he spoke.

"I am begging you, Allen. If you will not allow me to kill myself to save my wife, I beg you to kill me in her stead. I again offer you my life if you leave my wife and child as they are innocent of this."

Bloom thrashed in anger, twisting Clarice as he stomped his foot in rage, "No! I will see you suffer as I suffer!"

Bloom's muscles flexed on the right side signaling to Hannibal that Bloom was about to draw the blade across Clarice's stomach. Hannibal took the coin and flipped it toward Bloom.

For a brief instant, Bloom's eyes and his attention followed the coin. In that moment, Hannibal acted.

He dove toward Clarice, grabbed her from Bloom's arms, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to the ground. Hannibal fell onto his back with a thug, the wind being forced from his lungs with Clarice cradled protectively in his arms. Hannibal rolled over with his arms and legs forming a protective cage around Clarice. He lifted her quickly, turned and set her down.

"Move away from me Clarice. I will be far more capable of handling this if I do not have to worry about your safety. Go to Logan."

The moment Clarice reached Logan he called out, "I got her Hannibal. Now kick his pussy ass!"

Hannibal faced Bloom.

Bloom held the Harpy above his head and charged Hannibal.

Stepping quickly to the side, Hannibal reached for Bloom's hand attempting, at least for the cameras, to disarm Bloom. Doctor Alan Bloom swiped the blade at Hannibal, slashing the side of his throat and opening a bloody wound. Though the cut was no more than superficial, the bleeding was significant. Hannibal spun into Bloom's body and grabbed his arm, controlled the wrist and turned with Bloom.

Now that Clarice was no longer in danger, several correctional officers moved in. Hannibal could hear their footsteps and quickly assessed the situation from the stimuli he was able to gather. He could smell the slight leakage of pepper spray as the safety releases were being shifted to arm the mace delivery canisters.

Hannibal listened intently as he attempted to discern which officer would launch the attack first. He judged the officer just over his left shoulder was closest to firing. The split second Hannibal picked up the scent of the fluid ejecting from the canister he spun toward the spray, protecting Bloom and allowing himself to receive the full brunt of the chemical attack face-first.

Holding Bloom's arm, the Harpy still bundled tightly Bloom's fist, Hannibal twisted in pain. He was choking and gagging for the cameras as he directed Bloom's arm. Hannibal wretched, timing the spasm as the tip of the blade pierced Bloom's abdomen. Hannibal tugged at the elbow as he spun toward the cameras, the Harpy now tearing into the flesh. Bloom doubled over as the Harpy was dragged through his own flesh, by his own hand. He screamed in agony as Hannibal, turning with the doomed psychiatrist as if still attempting to spin away from the pepper spray, guided Bloom's arm, aiding him in the fully forced performance of the seppuku.

The cut roared open as Bloom's entrails slowly blossomed and cascaded from the opening. Anyone witnessing the event would not perceive Hannibal's assistance in the assault as he was blinded, choking for air, obviously distressed and fully involved in his own pain. It appeared to all present as if the cut was fully self-inflicted.

Hannibal whiplashed his head as if in a desperate attempt to rid his eyes of the burning chemicals. He then tucked his face alongside Bloom's neck as if wiping his eyes on the man's suit jacket.

Hannibal hissed his vengeance as he clutched Bloom's arms whispering in the terrified man's ear, "You should not have harmed Clarice…Est sularis oth mithas…My honor is my Life! You have no honor, Alan. Soon you will have no life."

Hannibal leaned forward as if wincing in pain from the spray attack. He began to cough as if the spray was affecting his breathing. The pressure Hannibal surreptitiously forced against Bloom's elbow caused the Harpy to be forced home. As Bloom doubled over attempting to squirm from the blade, Hannibal continued to whisper poison into the man's ear.

"Now, you will die like a pig on a slaughter house floor, squealing in your own blood and excrement."

Wild eyed, Bloom howled in agony as his innards continued to spill out from the incision. Hannibal released Bloom and twisted away from Bloom as the mortally wounded man attempted to scoop his intestines from the cement floor and gather them back into his open abdominal cavity. Within seconds the blood loss was too great to overcome. Bloom tipped forward and toppled, very slowly, facedown onto his own organs.

Though Hannibal could not see, he could smell the intestines and knew Bloom was very near death.

"Clarice? I can't see…Clarice," Hannibal called out.

Bloom's body weight caused the lower bowels to burst and excrement to flow.

Bloom's death had indeed provided Hannibal with the pleasure he hoped it might. The man was now dead, the Harpy still clutched within his very cold hand, very dead hand.

Logan was incredulous, "Hannibal, Oh my god, Dude, you missed it! The crazy bastard just went all samurai and killed himself. He really is a gutless bastard _now_! You should _see_ it."

"Clarice…is she well?" Hannibal questioned for the assemblage, standing, eyes crushed closed with tears flowing down his cheeks as his lachrymal ducts attempted to flush the offending fluid. He was dripping in Bloom's blood.

"She wants to come to you but I'm holding her. Can I let her go?"

"Yes, please, Logan…with water…I need Clarice…my eyes."

Clarice rushed to Hannibal holding several water bottles. She spoke softly, "I'm going to use some bottled water to flush the pepper spray from your eyes, H. Hold still. It will be okay…we are going to be okay."

Logan was laughing as he moved around Bloom's body, "Hannibal get those eyes cleared you've gotta see this it's fucking poetic. Hey Clarice…Remember what you said about the assholes of the world trying to take Hannibal from you? Check it out! Now there's one less asshole in the world and just like an asshole, this one's covered in his own shit!"

Hannibal stood very quietly as Clarice poured the water over his face. The runoff began to rinse the blood from his suit as well. Knowing her husband was a creature of habit, Clarice reached into Hannibal's inside pocket to find the crisp white handkerchief she knew would be placed. She used it to clean Hannibal's eyes.

"I'm sorry to say that bastard bled all over you, H. I think this suit is beyond salvage."

His face now cleaned, Hannibal rested his head on Clarice's shoulder burying his face alongside her neck, "One suit is a small price to pay for peace, Clarice."

Logan walked up to Hannibal, "Dude…Holy shit! Are you kidding me? That was unreal…un-fucking-real!"

Logan's eye caught sight of the coin hydroplaning atop an ever increasing puddle of blood.

"That was one hell of a good luck charm! Hey can I have it?"

Hannibal flashed a smile, "Of course, my friend. I'll have no need of it now."

Logan held the coin out toward Clarice on his flattened palm, "Do you mind hitting this with the water. It's bleeding like that son of a bitch. LOL!"

Clarice rinsed the blood from the coin.

Logan dried it on the side of his leg. He then began to flip it in the air over and over again with a wide smile on his face.

"That was epic…absolutely fucking epic!"

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter my friends!**

**Review and tell me what you think! Then PM and say Hi!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	106. Chapter 106

**THE FINAL RELEASE**

Hannibal and Clarice were seen immediately by the medical staff of the prison. Hannibal's eyes were additionally flushed and the cut on Clarice was covered and cleaned but did not need further attention.

"Why don't you catch a ride with us, Clarice?" Ardelia offered.

"Don't you think I'd prefer that? The president was so goddamned mortified by the situation with Bloom that it was _really_ awkward. He kept talking about wanting to insure Hannibal's safety. I had no idea what the hell to say."

Ardelia laughed, "Wait a minute…he wanted to insure _Hannibal's_ _safety_?"

Clarice laughed along with her friend. "Yeah, pretty ridiculous huh? I guess he never read H's case file."

"That's an understatement. You okay here?"

"Yeah, H is in the back of the room. I'm fine."

"Okay, I'm gonna check in with Logan. I'll be back in a minute."

As Ardelia left to find Logan, Clarice sat on one of the chairs, too tired to stand any longer.

Hannibal had been standing very still against a wall in the back of the room watching the correctional officers as they watched him. Theirs were simply curious stares. Hannibal's perusal more an assessment of their skills, their body language, even which hand they favored. He watched the movement of their legs to see how their pants fell near their ankles checking for holsters. Not because he intended to do harm but after all his years of incarceration it was more force of habit than anything else. Seeing Clarice alone in the center of the room much the same as first time he saw her through the glass all he wanted to do was touch her.

Clarice tipped her head to look up at him. Understanding the signal, Hannibal bent over and kissed her.

Clarice smiled, "Hey, H."

"Hello, Clarice."

He relished the warmth and the feel of her body and contented himself by running his hands through her hair.

Two very curious off-duty guards stood nearby obviously intently focused on the couple's interaction. Occasionally they would notice something or think of an amusing comment and mumble to one another. Hannibal listened intently and watched them peripherally but did not let on that he could hear their conversation until the tone shifted to one he could not ignore.

Of the pair, the thinner shorter man turned the conversation to the profane, "I can't believe she _sleeps _with him. What a lucky son of a bitch."

Whispering, the heavier of the two men leered, "Do you think she'll breast feed? It sure looks like she's got plenty of milk coming in."

The smaller man snickered, "I'd sure as hell shove the old guy aside for a taste. You wouldn't be able to pull me off her."

Having had enough of the discourtesy to Clarice, Hannibal's eyes flashed blood red as he spun to face the men. The guards clearly panicked as Hannibal hissed, "I invite either of you to try, though I must warn I am not as tame I appear. If you attempted to touch my wife…my face would be the last you would see."

Terrified Hannibal had clearly heard their conversation the men began to shove each other toward the door clearly desperate to get out of the room.

"Try not to frighten the children, H," Clarice joked, clearly unconcerned with her husband's behavior. She correctly assumed the guards were offensive and Hannibal was simply entertaining himself. She sat awkwardly on one of the plastic chairs. The long day was wearing on her physically, obvious from her posture. She placed her hands under her belly for support. Now heavy with child and more than a little uncomfortable she leaned into her husband and tapped her foot anxiously.

"Jesus Christ why does getting out of prison take so much longer than getting in?" she complained as she arched her back in discomfort.

Hannibal mused, "It is preferable to not getting out at all, Clarice." He was still unnerved by Bloom's assault on his wife and stood protectively behind with his hands resting on her shoulders. Sensing her heightened level of anxiety and assuming the pregnancy was causing additional strain he quietly began rubbing her back and shoulders.

Though he wanted to touch her far more intimately than this casual caress it was hardly the place for such things. No, he would be forced to wait until they were alone. Instead his imagination would have to suffice. He closed his eyes and brought to mind holding her after their first coupling with the scent of their lovemaking filling his nostrils. He could feel her flesh pressed against him as he pulled her close. Her back rested against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly holding her, never wanting to let go.

Clarice was oblivious to Hannibal's mood and continued to grouse about their situation.

"Seriously, I can't believe this doesn't irritate you. I just want to get you the hell out of here in case someone changes their mind."

"It does not irritate me because there is nothing I can do to expedite the process. I learned many years ago that my emotions do not affect a situation therefore I do not invest them."

"Well, I don't care if it affects things or not if I'm pissed off then I'm just pissed off. I can't help it."

Clarice stretched her back and arched into the contact.

Hannibal continued to press his fingertips into the tissue, working the knots from her strained muscles.

"What have the arrangements been for the Bashandi's?" Hannibal inquired realizing their guests would be returning to the home.

"They had the house to themselves last night. The prime minister had several meetings lined up and wanted to watch the documentary with his advisors. I was really just in the way so I stayed at the duplex like you suggested. I spoke to his chief of staff and he told me Mariyah and her father would attend an official state dinner with the president and wouldn't be returning until much later tonight. Why? What do you have on your mind?"

"I had hoped there might be a window of opportunity for some much needed privacy. I would like to hold you in my arms without having to ask permission. Not to mention it has been far too long, my Love."

Starved for his wife's touch he was now preoccupied with the clock on the wall hoping if they made good enough time now, the opportunity to make love to his wife might very soon present itself. He would not be comfortable once their houseguests arrived and as such, he was desperate to get home.

Hannibal's mind tumbled with scenarios as his fingertips gently probed her flesh, pinching and kneading her tightly bundled muscles. The heat from his hands and the friction from his touch released a sweet bouquet from her body that sparked Hannibal's desire. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flared as he lowered his body aligning his nose with her cheek to gather in the aroma.

He whispered, "You have haunted my dreams, my Love. When we arrive home…"

He let his voice trail off as he centered his attention to the gentle curve of her neck where it joined her shoulder. As he continued to massage her flesh he placed light kisses and the occasional teasing bite along the winter-pale skin of her neck and shoulders.

Again Clarice dropped her head back reaching for a kiss. Hannibal lowered his head and obliged.

"Umm, H…that's wonderful."

"If you think a simple massage is wonderful…"

He kissed her again, this time lingering, deepening, "…wait until I get you home my Love. I assure you it will be much more than merely wonderful," he kissed her again, "it will be transcendent."

Hannibal released her lips and continued to attend to her tired back and shoulder muscles. He sought to stimulate blood flow by leaning into his arms and intensifying the massage. He soon found the contact was encouraging the blood flow to his body as well and shifted from the tension. Clarice was so wrapped up in the massage she was oblivious to his response.

"H, I can't even tell you how much I've missed this; how much I missed you."

"I have missed you as well Clarice. I have come to realize how much I rely on your presence. My utter need for you is very compelling and gives you a power over me that I find quite intriguing."

Clarice reached back, grabbed his leg gripped his thigh muscle and squeezed it tightly just beneath his bottom. This modest contact paired with a surging flood of warmth within caused a flutter in the deepest part of him. Though it was new to him he loved that strange, queasy, jumpy, feeling he got whenever she touched him.

"Don't be ridiculous," she laughed, "You were locked up for more than eight years and you still had everyone there dangling like puppets on a string. No one has any power over you, least of all me. You're so far above everyone else that most people are more like pets to you."

"I certainly would enjoy petting _you,_ Clarice," Hannibal flirted.

He found himself quite surprised at how intense his drive was to join with her flesh. Though he had always had an active libido this was different. This was not a longing for sex, though that was some part of it. This was more a need to meld his body with hers, to join, to become one. It was the first instinctual drive that he was unfamiliar with but he found he welcomed the need as it reflected his intense desire to protect his wife and their child.

"Yeah, well I don't have any illusions. The only power I have over you is the power you allow me to have, H."

At this moment he had the intense desire to bite her flesh and to draw it into his mouth long enough to raise a livid mark. It was a primal feeling of ownership, a public display he used at various times in his life with any number of a variety of women with whom he had a sexual relationship.

Clarice was the first woman he had allowed to bite or to break his skin Body and soul he offered himself willingly. He was surprised she accepted. She alone was allowed to leave her mark upon him.

"No Clarice. I haven't the ability to disallow this desire and have absolutely no control over it. I am at your mercy and am fully content to be so. That is what I find so intriguing."

Clarice arched in response to his touch, sighing at the contact and leaning into his hand. The sensations generated from her pleasure kindled Hannibal's passion. That combined with the fact that he had not had relief in several days elicited such a rapid and pronounced response that he was relieved to be standing behind Clarice. If not, his arousal would have been difficult to hide and he most definitely would have been extremely compromised in the presence of Ardelia who had just entered the room with the wheelchair.

The sight of Ardelia pushing the wheelchair caused Clarice to bristle with irritation.

"I am _so done_ with that chair it isn't even funny, Dee." She waved an agitated hand swatting backward at the air, vehemently dismissing the mode of transport.

Ardelia looked at Hannibal. "You're the doctor, big guy. What are we doing- wheelchair or no?"

Hannibal could immediately feel her muscles tense at the sight of the conveyance. He paused a moment to process her physiological feedback and wasn't certain he fully understood what her body was communicating. He believed the wheelchair would be prudent but his young wife's defiance caused him pause.

"Clarice?" he questioned seeking further information.

Clarice reached to her shoulders and gripped Hannibal's hands, squeezing them tightly.

"H…

Hannibal bent to his knee beside the chair. He wanted to see her eyes.

"Clarice…"

Clarice reached for him and cradled his face very gently in her hands. She pulled him close and touched her forehead to his as she spoke just above a whisper, "Everyone knows your past and they all have ideas about who and what you are. To them, you're Doctor Hannibal Lecter, genius, a thrilling enigma, a terrifying and exhilarating presence. But that isn't who _I _need right now. That isn't who_ I_ want to be with. Now, _I need H_…I need my _husband_. I want the world to know that I love you for who you are and that I am by your side, no matter what. I want to walk out the front door of this hell-hole, side by side, arm in arm with our heads held high. I can't do that from that goddamned chair."

"It would be prudent…"

Clarice interrupted, "Fuck prudent, H…this is really important to me."

Hannibal stood with his head down staring off into space as he processed the situation.

"My wife would prefer to be by my side therefore I believe we will do without the chair Ardelia, thank you. Enough time has passed without incident and I am certain the exercise will only benefit. I'll tend to my wife if she has a problem"

He bent over Clarice and kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, "Was that the correct response, my Love?"

"You're a smart man, Hannibal Lecter."

"One tries, Clarice."

**THE RIDE HOME**

Hannibal rested his hand on Clarice's knee and occasionally drifted upward reaching for the silky smoothness of her inner thigh. He didn't dare to press further, not because he believed Clarice would deny him the pleasure, but more because he thought she might allow it and he would have had serious self-control issues had she graced him with that much contact.

He would soon have his assumptions proven correct.

Hannibal's hand traveled just slightly up the inside of her left thigh. He was looking out the window watching the lights pass and didn't dare make eye contact as the stimulation would have exceeded his hold upon it. Hannibal was content to smooth his fingertips back and forth over her silky, warm skin. He continued to gently touch her in this way and secretly commended himself for the grasp he maintained over his instincts. Hannibal's thoughts began to slowly shift as his nostrils flared, picking up his wife's desire. The inhalation stalled his movement but did not remove his hand, resting it gently.

Clarice wondered why he stopped touching her. She wanted more contact, not less.

"Hannibal…"There was heat in her voice, not anger.

"Yes Clarice?"

"H…It's been forever. Don't you want me to touch me?"

If words were a gun she had just drawn the hammer back.

He might have played it off with feigned ambivalence but his wife had a highly tuned bullshit meter and would have never believed him, "Clarice, I have been denied you for too long and I'm struggling to maintain restraint."

He made the mistake of looking into her eyes, so salacious they burned.

"Why?" Clarice asked.

"Clarice and we are not in the position…"

"It wouldn't take long to get into _the position_."

"If you are teasing me it would not be a good idea to rely on me for self-control. If it were up to me I would have taken you without apology in the waiting room."

Clarice pulled him close and whispered in his ear, "_H…now_."

Clarice was seated against the driver's back. Hannibal considered the logistics of the situation. He immediately dropped to his knees on the floor of the limo and moved quickly in front of Clarice. He placed his palms flat on her thighs her legs still firmly together he very gently moved to separate them. Clarice allowed her legs to slowly open. His heart raced as he moved quickly to her.

"This will not be the most elegant of exchanges."

"I don't want elegant. Right now I'll settle for hard and fast. We're pretty close to home."

Hannibal grasped her hips and pulled her to him that she might feel his body straining against his trousers. The moment his engorged body, still straining within his clothing pressed against the thin silky fabric of her panties she gasped, "Oh my god, H…_Really_?"

"I told you I have need of you, Clarice. This last separation has most assuredly tested the limits of my endurance."

"Not to mention the limits of your pants. That's not a load-bearing zipper you know."

Hannibal bit her neck and growled playfully as he pressed more fully against her, teasing in her ear, "I am heartened to see that my discomfort is the source of amusement for you."

Clarice reached or his zipper and very slowly lowered it, "Let me get that for you, H."

She unbuckled his belt and opened the front of his trousers. Hannibal could see her very clearly in the darkness but he was certain she, along with the driver who was behind a tinted glass partition, couldn't see a thing. Clarice was relying strictly through touch; a prospect Hannibal found most erotic.

As she lowered his pants and his boxers, sliding them down below his hips, taking him firmly in hand she loosened her grip slightly as she moved down, tightening again and she moved up. She smoothed her thumb, rolling it across the velvet flesh before slipping down his length again.

Hannibal gasped and doubled over slightly, leaning into Clarice and resting his head on her shoulder, "My Love, please…don't. Trust me when I say I am in no need of encouragement; quite the opposite in fact."

Clarice grabbed Hannibal's face and began to kiss him roughly, more a clutching and biting than their normally tender, graceful contact. Hannibal answered in kind, grasping at her body with reckless abandon. He reached his hands under her dress, slipped his fingers beneath her undergarments and dragged them down. For several minutes he was lost in the contact. Suddenly, Hannibal sat bolt upright.

"Clarice, when did you last speak to the obstetrician?"

"H…Jesus Christ not now."

"Clarice, I wasn't given the ultrasound taken after your diagnosis. I'm not certain I should proceed."

"It was border line to begin with. It's been three weeks, H. It's practically normal now."

"Clarice? You must be certain."

"I'm certain goddamn it I'm certain! What do I have to beg you?"

"That won't be necessary, Clarice. I am more than willing."

Hannibal slowed his pace, now unconcerned with his own satisfaction and more with his wife's health. Had he been ignorant of the risks involved he might not have worried, but having worked in hospitals and having dealt with this condition under emergency circumstances he was now more than a little preoccupied.

He continued, "Clarice if the placenta detaches…"

Still on his knees he considered which position might lessen the chances of complications in the event Clarice misunderstood her doctor's instructions. Not understanding Hannibal's reluctance Clarice lost her patience and shoved him back from her. She awkwardly swung her legs over, pulled on her underwear and fixed her dress. She was quiet so as not to raise the attention of the driver but the edge to her voice sliced through Hannibal's heart.

"Never mind, just never you goddamned mind!" she mumbled as she turned to face the window.

_That's it…now she's hurt. _

Hannibal very carefully sorted his clothing before sitting to adjust himself. He didn't bother apologizing knowing she was far too disturbed to attend to it. He forced himself into his trousers, very cautiously pulled up his zipper and buckled his belt. When he was certain his clothing was had been properly tended and his wife had a chance to calm he reached across the seat and offered his hand, palm up, admitting his discourtesy and seeking her absolution.

Clarice did not acknowledge his penitence.

"Clarice?"

She turned to face to him. Hannibal could see her quite clearly. She no longer appeared upset.

"Yeah H?"

Realizing she couldn't see what he was doing he brushed his fingertips beneath her hand, attempting to tease her fingers within his. Slowly she took his hand and laced her fingers within his. Hannibal held her hand very loosely.

"I am so sorry, my Love. We will figure this out at home. Know that I would die before causing you pain."

Clarice squeezed his hand.

_Forgiven._

The limo turned the corner on to their street to find the roadway reduced to one lane. There were cars and satellite trucks parked on both sides of the street.

Clarice tapped on the glass partition. The driver lowered the divider.

"What the hell is going on here? Did somebody die?" Clarice exclaimed.

The limo driver spoke up. Haven't you been home the last twenty-four hours? It's been like this since just before the documentary aired."

Hannibal craned his neck to see, "It would seem the walk to the front door will be much like running a gauntlet. Please, stay close, Clarice. I don't want to see you injured because a reckless photographer becomes overzealous in pursuit of a photo opportunity."

The car pulled up directly in front of the home, blowing his horn and nudging the car forward to push back news crews. He then moved to exit the vehicle but Hannibal raised an arm to halt his movement.

"That won't be necessary. I would prefer to hold the door for my wife. Thank you."

Hannibal and Clarice exited the car and faced the cameras together.

**The baby will be born soon- not too many more chapters to go!**

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	107. Chapter 107

Welcome back my friends!

**HOMECOMING**

Hannibal placed his arms around his wife, tucked her head against his chest in a protective posture and pulled her close as they quickly undertook the short walk up the steps to their home. The couple smiled and thanked the well-wishers, ignoring the flashing cameras and the microphones thrust in their faces. They were graceful and appreciative but focused on the objective: the entrance to their home and much needed privacy.

Hannibal's nimble fingers blurred with an impressive display of both speed and incredible dexterity as he disarmed the security system, as only a pianist could, without so much as shifting his eyes to the pad.

He detected a presence that was uncomfortably close causing his senses to immediately alert. Hannibal's pupils dilated and his nostrils flared to process a flood of unwanted and far too proximate stimuli.

Clarice was unaware of her husband's feeling of foreboding until he very quickly pressed his wife through the doorway. She was instantly alerted as she glanced over her shoulder and saw an almost feral look of ferocity in her husband's eyes. He hurried his instructions to her.

"Be prepared to lock the door and arm the security system if there is a problem, my Love."

At the precise moment he felt a hand slip beneath his arm and move his body to turn Hannibal's predatory instincts instantly accelerated. He spun toward the pressure, used his right forearm to deflect the intrusive hand and smashed that same palm with all his might flat on the interloper's sternum. Hannibal's savage contact forced the now vaulting body to slam unprotected to the pavement.

Cameras flashed as the situation quickly unfolded.

Hannibal's ruby red eyes seared with anger as he turned to face the offending individual. His chest heaved as the adrenalin he so sorely missed surged through his body electrifying his nerve endings and increasing his reaction time. He reached his fingers into his cuff missing the warmth of the metal normally heated by his flesh.

_No Harpy. _

Thrilled as his semi-dormant predatory reactions primed he breathed deeply and simultaneously caught the scent of the reckless offender, the nectar of emerging crocuses, and the warm moldy scent of the rich musty earth awakening with an early spring. He could hear birds in the trees and the rustle of the branches, their buds pregnant with newly forming foliage.

Prison had no such sounds or smells. It was offensive and industrial. Urine mixing with harsh anti-bacterial chemicals and mace had tainted his olfactory palate.

Hannibal now relished his release as he flexed his muscles and allowed his chest to expand with the inhalation fresh air and the enjoyment of an opponent to face. The flood of enhanced sensations heightened the moment. Hannibal, muscles poised, was absolutely exhilarated.

_I feel_ _everything._

Hannibal, expecting a worthy adversary was disappointed to find twisted like a pretzel in a tangle of his own gangly limbs, a young correctional officer with far more eagerness than judgment. Having been very publicly and quite unceremoniously thumped he sat spread eagle on the cold pavement wide-eyed and obviously embarrassed.

As he struggled to his feet at the bottom of the steps he stammered his apology, "I…I'm s…so… sorry…that was my bad. I…I probably surprised you…That was to...totally my bad."

Hannibal loomed over a distinctly unseasoned and absolutely mortified correctional officer.

"Young man, if you are at all aware of my past and my recent history you should know better than to approach me in such a manner. I am newly released from a stressful situation and more importantly, I am in the company of my pregnant wife, and as such am hyper-vigilant. This is not the facility in which you are employed and I am no longer your _guest_. For your safety you would do well to announce yourself and your intentions before laying your hands on me. Had I had a weapon at my disposal the results could have been most unfortunate."

The young man held a hand up in surrender and apology, "I'm so sorry Doctor Lecter I know better, really I do…but that's what I'm here about." The young man reached into his pocket revealing a tightly rolled plastic evidence bag. He snapped it, unfurling the length.

From the swing of it Hannibal could see there was some weight to it.

"You were so busy helping your wife you left this on the counter when you were released and I didn't want it to end up on EBay."

From the comment, Hannibal immediately understood what the bag contained. He extended his hand to accept the item. "Thank you for bringing it to me personally, Officer…?"

"Brady."

The young man held out the evidence bag. Hannibal descended the stairs and accepted the bag graciously. "I thank you for your kindness, Officer Brady."

Hannibal opened the blade while it remained within the bag and extricated his weapon by hooking the point through the plastic. Hannibal then closed the blade, slipped the harpy in his pocket so as not to reveal his normal storage of it within his sleeve and handed the bag to the young guard.

"You'll forgive me if I don't wish any items from the prison within my home. It isn't a place from which I wish to collect souvenirs. Again, thank you for your time and your thoughtfulness."

Hannibal turned and ascended the stairs. He was beside Clarice when he could again feel the young man quickly approach.

The young man chased Hannibal up the stairs even as he pulled a sharpie from his pocket, "Doctor Lecter, if you don't want it could you autograph the bag for me? I think you're awesome!"

Hannibal raised an eyebrow obviously worn by the young man's persistence.

_Awesome? How droll._

Clarice remained in the doorway, watched the exchange and encouraged in a sing-song teasing manner, "Go on, H and just sign the bag for him. He_ did_ come _all_ this way to bring you your _pretty_ _little knife_ and it's the _least_ you can do after tossing him on his _ass_."

Hannibal may had been inclined to ignore the request but the fact that Clarice interjected in such a ridiculous way made the situation far more difficult to decline gracefully. He glanced to his wife with the look about him of a disgusted young boy who had just been asked to kiss the hormonally hairy face of an elderly aunt.

"_Clarice?" _he complained.

Clarice folded her hands beneath her belly and waited patiently with a huge smile absolutely beside herself with amusement at the circumstances in which he husband found himself.

"H, just sign the bag for the nice young man and come inside."

Hannibal reluctantly took the sharpie and scrawled his name on the bag thrusting it into the eager hands of the young officer.

"Thank you, Doctor…thanks so much!"

"Not at all, I am all too happy to oblige." Hannibal considered the statement not a falsehood but a courtesy. It would not have been pleasant for the officer to hear what Hannibal was really thinking about the incident. Not with the harpy now so close at hand.

The young man bounded down the steps and pushed past the crowd proudly flagging the bag with the unadulterated thrill of Charlie Bucket waving Wonka's golden ticket.

Irritated beyond his capacity to entertain the subject, Hannibal entered the home, secured the locks and the alarm, leaned backward against the door and blurted, "My _pretty little knife_…Really Clarice?"

Clarice was laughing aloud as Hannibal helped her off with her coat.

"Yeah, I thought you'd get a kick outta that, H."

"Clarice, I cannot _believe_ you made me _do _that."

"Hey, don't blame me, _Mr. Celebrity_. No one can _make_ you do anything you don't want to do and don't act like you didn't _enjoy_ it."

"I most certainly did _not_ enjoy it. It was a personal affront to my dignity."

Clarice ignored his blustering, "You go ahead huffing and puffing around blustering about your dignity. I'm going upstairs and getting naked. Feel free to join me or stay down here and complain it's your choice."

Hannibal was caught off-guard for a moment and stood at the foot of the stairs hypnotized by the sway of her hips as she ascended. He thought for a moment of how breathtaking the view would be if she were already naked. Releasing a deep sigh he imagined the slightest hint of her hidden sex being revealed ever so briefly by the shift of her shapely bottom. His heart began to pound.

Not hearing her husband follow, Clarice stopped at the half-way point of the stairs, turned to face her husband and wagged a seductive finger enticing him to follow.

"Hey H, I get the no sex in the limo stance but you told me we would sort that out at home."

"Yes, Clarice."

"Well, we're home! Bring your sexy ass up the stairs, get your clothes off and let's _sort this out."_

Realizing she was serious, Hannibal bounded up the stairs with the energy of a man that had stored up far too much _energy._

Passing Clarice he stood at the top of the staircase and smiled. "Do try to hurry, Clarice. We haven't as much time as I would prefer."

"It's only three-thirty. We've got the rest of the day and most of the evening. The dinner doesn't even begin until seven o'clock. That will give us time for lots of privacy and a nap at the end as well before supper."

"No nap at the end…just a brief rest and a new beginning, yes? As for supper, I'm not hungry." he stated with a playful glint in his eye.

"Hell, I'm game if you are, handsome."

"I am more than game, my Love."

The moment Clarice topped the staircase Hannibal scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He placed her on his side of the bed, walked around to her side and very neatly turned back the bedcovers. Hannibal then moved over to Clarice and starting with her shoes, very gently began to undress her.

They spoke very casually as he removed each article of her clothing.

"You beauty is unparalleled, Clarice."

"You aren't so tough to look at either H."

"I find myself hoping our child has your features."

"Why not yours, H…you're so distinctive."

"Precisely… I don't wish our child labeled a freak. Don't forget, Clarice. Though the ultrasound confirms ten fingers, the child may yet have my eyes."

"I love your eyes, don't you?"

"While I have no qualms about them now, I didn't love them as a child. They made me different. Different when you are young is most assuredly not enjoyable. It made me quite the target."

"Somehow I doubt, with the name Hannibal Lecter, that any child will be foolish enough to bully him."

Clarice was now resting on the bed fully nude. Hannibal stood back to admire her.

"Before you deliver, my Love, I intend to sketch you. Would you grace me by posing or must I rely on my memory?"

"Your memory's always been pretty accurate, what do you need me for?"

"I would think that would be obvious; for my own personal enjoyment Clarice."

"How about we split the difference and you sketch me while I sleep?"

"Still a tad shy, my Love? You needn't be. You are perfection in my eyes."

When he was left with her undergarments he sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped his arms around her body.

Clarice continued, "It's not that I'm shy it's just that you really can be intense, you know?"

As he unhinged the clasped hooks and released her breasts he cupped them gently and whispered lustily in her ear.

"_I know._"

He was so attentive and appreciative of her body, not really admiring, more worshipping, that she was now for the most part comfortable with his gaze. It had been far too intense an experience for her initially.

As Hannibal began to undress Clarice watched him intently as he removed each article of clothing without as much as breaking eye contact. He walked back and forth around the bed lighting candles and assembling pillows in a very precise way.

_It looks like my man has a plan._

She marveled at how unabashed he was and how comfortable he seemed to be with his own physicality while unclothed. Nudity to him seemed as natural as it would for a lion or a tiger. He was equally elegant and somehow seemed much more dangerous unclothed. It was as if donning garments in some way civilized him. In this state he was intense, primal and with an edge of savagery she found enticing.

His organizational tasks complete, Hannibal took to his knees much like a child praying beside the bed. Clarice was resting on her back, her belly undulating with the baby's movement. Clearly marveling at the shifting life within Hannibal Lecter ran his hand along the rise of her belly skimming his palm and fingers along the surface. "I am in utter awe of you, Clarice. Our child grows within you. You are a miracle."

"Don't go getting dramatic on me, H. Women get pregnant every day. It isn't as if this is the virgin birth."

"When you consider the fact that Mary was no more than a surrogate with God taking the role of supreme sperm donor, this is more much more miraculous, my Love."

Clarice slapped him playfully, "Don't be ridiculous."

"It's true. The heaven's themselves aligned for the birth of the Christ. Consider the fact that the mother was impregnated by an act of God. We had no such advantages. When you too consider how many circumstances sought to prevent our union, our child is most definitely the greater of the two miracles."

"Another one of the reasons I am so much in love with you Hannibal Lecter is you make hyperbole seem pedestrian."

Hannibal stood, scooped his wife up in his arms and carried her to her side of the bed placing her on the nest of pillows he had just created.

"One of the reasons I am so in love with you my lovely wife is that you are a perceptive woman. You know a good thing when you see it."

Clarice slapped her husband's backside as he climbed over her to the opposite side.

"And I know a wise ass when I see it too!"

Hannibal pulled his wife in close. "And it is one you will not soon be rid of, Clarice."

Clarice rested alongside her husband, the full length of her body being cradled gently against his.

"I don't remember saying I wanted to be rid of it. I've said I wanted a piece of it, but that's about it."

Hannibal began to kiss and bite gently at the muscles of her shoulder and neck.

"You have the most elegant anatomy Clarice."

"Hey, H…If you don't mind…less talking…more touching."

"As you wish, my Love."

Hannibal began to smooth his hand, trilling his fingertips along the length of her arms. She rolled impatiently into his embrace, grabbed his hips, pulled him in and pressed her body against his now firm flesh.

"You're all ready and so am I. I want you now, H."

"You are having me now, Clarice. I'll get there. You needn't rush." _You must trust that I want you as well my Love_.

"Get there faster."

Hannibal moved further down the bed, and kissed her belly, smoothing his hands over the curve. He began to work his way lower and could feel Clarice tense in anticipation. His nostrils flared as he gathered in the sweet scent of her arousal mixing with his own.

There was another scent which piqued his curiosity. He would leave that for now but made a mental note to explore it further without her knowledge. He had no societal taboo issues in regards to enjoying her body but thought she might. He would test that soon. First, relief would have to come to them both.

Clarice shifted her body, positioning it higher on the bed and by default, positioning Hannibal much lower.

"Clarice?"

"Take the hint, H."

Hannibal smoothed his hand down her belly and turned his palm allowing his fingers to slip between her legs. He very gently lifted her knee and opened her leg outward resting it on a pillow he had placed.

He then moved between her legs and lowered his head to her.

Clarice moaned softly as he sought to please, very tenderly attending to her with his mouth and tongue.

Shifting her body to the warm wet caresses she allowed him freedom of movement by resisting the urge to close her thighs and pull him tighter against her body. Hannibal took advantage of the freedom and arching his neck, rolled his head up and down as his wet tongue fully laved her flesh.

Clarice shifted within the pillows as the contact was almost too intense.

Hannibal was enjoying the taste and the tactile sensation of her flesh rolling and folding within his lips. He grabbed for her hips and pulled her tighter against in mouth moaning deeply as he probed, lapped and teased at the flesh until he could feel Clarice begin to tremble and her breathing shorten.

"H…H…oh…oh…oh God, H…H…oh God!"

Hannibal swirled his tongue around her most sensitive flesh, drawing it in he sipped gently at the swollen flesh flushed full with desire.

Clarice pulled at the bedclothes, pulling armfuls to her body as she writhed in pleasure.

Again, Hannibal pulled her tightly against himself, his muffled vocalizations low and primal.

As his pleasure hummed in the back of his throat and rumbled up his vocal chords and into his mouth, Hannibal growled within her flesh, teasing as his flattened tongue slipped up the channel of flesh over and over again.

The constant pressure of his lingual muscle combined with the strange vibrating sensations of his continual groaning and growling suddenly sent intense pulses of pleasure surging through her body. She shuddered as the shockwaves of orgasm rolled through Clarice causing her to grip his shoulders for support as her small frame shook with the full effects of her long awaited release.

Hannibal hummed his approval continuing to enjoy Clarice's rapture. He was careful not to shift too much as he had learned by trial and error that once he had found the right spot, he should stay put. Clarice was not one to be trifled with if her pleasure was interrupted.

When the waves of pleasure waned, Clarice tousled Hannibal's hair.

"Okay, come up here…it's your turn big guy."

Hannibal hugged her thighs and rested his head gently on his wife's belly listening to the ambient sounds of his baby growing within. He released a deeply held breath and whispered.

"Soon Clarice…soon."

He was already a fully contented man.

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH**


	108. Chapter 108

**LETTING GO**

His wife now satisfied and he himself feeling just a bit claustrophobic Hannibal stood from the bed, walked across the room, and threw open the window. He stretched his shoulders, opened his arms widely to fully expand his chest, and arched his back with such an exaggerated range of motion that he was raised to the tips of his toes.

Rocking back on his heels he inhaled deeply taking in the intense stream of scents flooding the room. Doctor Hannibal Lecter, home for the first time in several weeks, stood shaking out his muscles and allowed the warm breeze of the beckoning season to surround him.

The days were lengthening with the change of seasons and the sun was just beginning to set. This cast a warm crimson glow in the room. Clarice had been surprised her husband rolled quickly off the bed and therefore watched him very closely enchanted by the play of sunlight reflecting within Hannibal's unique irises.

_I adore his eyes, shimmering like swirling fireflies. I wonder why he got up…anyway, he looks happy. He's probably just feeling a bit hemmed in._

Clarice watched as he moved freely around the room swinging his arms wide and opening his body language much more than he had ever displayed while incarcerated. It was as if Hannibal while imprisoned somehow retreated physically.

Obviously relishing the complete lack of physical restraint his movements were both balletic and raw so efficient and elegant he was mesmerizing to watch. She followed his actions as she considered his appearance.

_Does he restrict his body in prison because of some sub-conscious anxiety, depression or post-traumatic stress? Is it intentional? What am I talking about! Of course it's intentional. There are no accidents with H. He's too disciplined for it to be anything but self-control, like he conserves himself, powers down and hibernates somehow. What an incredible ability._

Hannibal's deep, lush baritone broke the silence. There was happiness in his voice, "I truly treasure our life together don't you?"

"More than I can ever express, H."

"Yes…I feel much the same, Clarice. It has been an exceptional day, wouldn't you say?"

Clarice pulled a pillow under her arm and leaning on an elbow raised up slightly to watch his reaction to her next comment. She had an impish expression on her face as she teased, "You're just saying that because you got away with gutting Bloom."

Hannibal took another deep breath and vigorously massaged his chest as he turned toward his wife.

"It cannot be because I have just now made love to the most beautiful woman in the world?"

Clarice shook her head, "Nope…not buying it for three reasons."

"Do enlighten me, Clarice."

_Thrill me with your acumen._

"Number one, I'm not the most beautiful woman in the world. Two, we make love all the time, and three, you made sure I was satisfied but you haven't had your turn yet. No…Bloom's _definitely _the reason."

As Hannibal considered her comment, Clarice remembered a conversation they shared from behind the bars in Tennessee. He had a way of framing words that made them seem three-dimensional. It was as if the thoughts he voiced were rounded and had actual weight to them.

Standing across from him with just a few feet of distance and a few lengths of iron bar between them she could feel the power of his mind. Within that concentrated span of space and time his incisive intuition, blinding intelligence and his personal intensity drew her in. The moment his finger brushed against her, within that single flash it was as if all the windows in her mind aligned allowing her to live a lifetime in that one instant. Somehow, as if born from his touch, she understood that from that moment on their lives would be forever joined.

_Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?_

Hannibal paced in front of the window like a lawyer might in front of a jury as he addressed her statements one by one.

"To counter your claims, first, in my eyes you are not only the most beautiful woman in the world, you are the only woman in the world. Second, though we make love frequently I have been somewhat denied as of late, therefore this day stands out in that regard. Third, satisfying you satisfies me immensely not to mention that the night is young and I have high hopes for the remainder."

Clarice watched him move back and forth and enjoyed every moment of his nudity as she was no longer shy or embarrassed to be seen considering his anatomy. If Hannibal noticed, which he certainly had, he didn't make any particular note of it. Instead he slapped his palms on his pectoral muscles and continued to breathe as if gathering the aromas surrounding his home while venting the prison air from his system. The more she watched him move, the more Clarice wanted him back in their bed.

"Be honest, H…Bloom's a pretty big factor in your mood. Why can't you just be at one with it? I am."

Hannibal's voice was unusually animated, lyrical almost, "Yes, I will admit that momentous event most definitely added to my enjoyment of the afternoon. He turned out to be an exceptional dance partner following my lead quite well wouldn't you say?"

Clarice smiled widely, amused at the dance reference, "Yeah H, Bloom was the Rogers to your Astaire."

"Quite. What did you think of my choreography? Well- played, yes?"

"I was definitely impressed with your little _death dance_. They could advance that video a frame at a time and no one would know you sliced that little shit wide open, not to mention turning into that pepper spray…truly inspired. Smelled it coming at you, hmm?"

"A mile away," He proclaimed proudly.

Seeking to expend his excessive energy he reached behind him placed his palms on the sill, leaned backward toward the window, relaxed his body and lowered himself until his bottom was eight or ten inches from the ground. Slowly, he forced all of his strength down through his hands and began to press himself back up until he could again lock out his elbows. He repeated the process several times.

Clarice lifted her chin to catch his attention, "H, you might want to back up from that window."

Hannibal was enjoying the workout. "Now why would I want to do that?"

"Because you're naked as the day you were born and with all the paparazzi out there, I don't know if you should be parading in front of the window shaking what your mama made you."

Hannibal laughed at the colloquialism, "I am not ashamed of my body, Clarice."

"I'm not ashamed of your body either but that's not the point."

"Then pray tell me, Clarice what _is _the point?"

"That's the side of the house that faces the Warden's. I know I've told you to watch out for that before, you'll give the old guy an inferiority complex and his wife a goddamned heart attack."

Hannibal smiled, "I merely wanted to experience the fresh air, Clarice. I am not trying to terrorize our elderly neighbors."

"Maybe you're trying get featured in the National Tattler. You'd make one hell of a centerfold!"

Laughing, he straightened from the last push up and moved from the window, "Heaven forbid."

He crossed the room quickly. The moment Hannibal moved back to bed Clarice reached for him.

He lifted the down comforter and slipped into bed cuddling beside Clarice and pulling her against his body. She rested her head on his chest and occasionally threaded her fingers through the hair between his pectorals tugging it upward as she smoothed her hand over the breadth of his body.

He could feel his heart beat quicken.

Suddenly Clarice lifted her head slightly from her husband and looked up at him.

"I almost forgot I scheduled a tour of the hospital's maternity ward so we could have a look around. I wanted to see what I'm up against when the big day comes. I know you'll be bored to tears but I hope you're okay with it. It's a tour for couples and I don't want to go it alone."

Hannibal considered her statement as he simultaneously remembered a warm summer day keeping watch over his sister with their dog standing guard nearby. They were in their garden looking at the shining vegetables trailing on vines.

_Childhood had initially held such promise. No matter…my children will have better. Children…will she want more?_

He shifted his thoughts to his wife.

"Not to worry, Clarice I would be more than happy to accompany you on the tour."

"I was hoping you would say that."

He pulled her in tightly and kissed the top of her head. "Why?"

"Because, my dearest husband, I can't _stand_ making small talk."

Hannibal laughed so heartily at the statement it caused his wife's head to bobble slightly on his chest.

"And what would your dislike of small talk have to do with my attendance?"

"Because when I've got you on my arm the women whisper behind our backs, and the men are too impressed or too scared shitless to approach you, so even though everybody will stare, they'll leave us the hell alone and I'm totally cool with that."

Hannibal traced little infinity symbols on the small of her back lightly with his fingernails, "And that is preferable to making small talk?"

"Damn straight."

Again he inhaled deeply enjoying the aromas wafting through the open window mixing with the sweet scent from their marital bed. Clarice's scent however, was being complicated by an additional note. He recognized the source but the bouquet was one with which he was unfamiliar. His curiosity again piqued Hannibal Lecter planned to test his wife's societal boundaries.

Very slowly, he began to kiss Clarice. It was chaste kiss very emotive and filled with tenderness.

She responded in kind, matching his surface sensitivity with simmering undertones of passion. Slowly Hannibal increased the intensity and the intrusive nature of the contact by slipping his tongue very gently between her parted lips.

Clarice matched Hannibal's movements showing similar restraint by not deepening the kiss too quickly, instead enjoying the tenuous probing nature of the exchange. Several minutes passed before Hannibal moved from her lips to her neck, continuing the light kisses. Occasionally, he would gather a bit of flesh in his mouth and suck very gently wanting to slowly introduce the sensation without seeming too direct.

As Hannibal used his mouth to explore her body, Clarice used her hands to explore his.

_So much power in such a compact frame it was like watching a jungle cat the way he ripped that man open. He's so visceral, capable of such savagery and yet such tenderness..._

"I love you, H."

Hannibal paused a moment, just long enough to respond before returning to his exploration of her body, "I love you as well, Clarice."

_He does love me. Hannibal Lecter loves me._

The thought of it brought her tremendous peace.

Clarice rested alongside his body and felt the strength of his heartbeat as it pounded against her own. She was powerfully attracted to him from the very beginning though she hadn't dared admit it to herself. Their journey to find one another had been surreal as she had felt an intense pull toward him and believed the same could be said for Hannibal.

There was no reason they should be together and yet no way they could remain apart.

Their attraction was as strong now as it had always been. Stronger in fact, as together they were formidable. The life before they were lovers, the life before they became one, that life, that Clarice Starling seemed a lifetime away.

_Maybe it should it bother me that he wanted to kill Bloom but I swear for what that bastard did I would have gladly gutted him myself if I could have spared H even five minutes of that pain. Christ, what does that say about me?_

She wasn't disturbed by the question she posed herself. It was more an example of her musing than anything else. She was comfortable with her husband's predatory nature and was finding hints of the same within herself at times. She saw the justice in it and felt, after all he endured that her husband earned Bloom's death. She felt no remorse in the unlamented forensic psychiatrist's passing and reminded herself it was a just kill and that in spite of his desire to take that life, her husband was a good man.

_Some people are such wastes of the skin that wrap their pathetic souls that the world becomes a little brighter when they pass. So what if H expedites the process, if he gets a little pleasure from it, good for him. He deserved it. God knows what Bloom did to Hannibal would have killed most men. It could very easily have been the other way around. _

"Roll on your side toward me, H. I want to touch you."

Hannibal dutifully slipped Clarice from atop his chest and turned onto his right side to face her.

Wanting to touch her husband as much to comfort herself as her husband, Clarice massaged Hannibal's arms and shoulders prodding his muscles to work the tension from them. Hannibal flinched and groaned as Clarice firmly probed the striations, working the muscle groups by digging her fingertips deeply into his tissue to separate any nodules. She gripped his deltoids firmly causing Hannibal to arch his back and growl slightly.

"What's the matter, H…my poor growling baby can't take a little pressure?"

"Actually, I would describe it as less of a growl as that implies a level of aggression, and more of an enthusiastic purr as I am enjoying this very much."

Noticing Clarice was quite distracted with her massage technique Hannibal lowered his head to his wife's breast and very lightly brushed his lips across the coral peak, the flesh responded to his touch tensing immediately against his tongue. Not sensing any distress, he continued to bathe the pebbled flesh teasing with the tip of his tongue just enough to encourage a soft sigh.

_Still no protestation, she is either unaware or uninhibited. Based on her Protestant sensibilities I would think the former. We shall see._

Hannibal very gently kissed her breasts, speaking softly as for this he felt he needed permission.

"Clarice, have you noticed any changes to your breasts?"

"They're swollen and a little bit tender. Why? What's wrong?"

He continued to kiss them and occasionally draw the tightened flesh into his mouth sucking very lightly.

"Nothing is wrong it is a perfectly natural progression. I wondered if you were aware your colostrum has come in."

Again, he traced his tongue over the bumpy flesh in tiny circles and sucking very gently as he waited for a reaction. She remained perfectly still, though her soft vocalizations of pleasure ceased.

"H?"

"Yes my Love?"

"What _exactly _is happening right now?"

"I am enjoying your body, Clarice."

"Is something coming _out_ of my body, H?"

"Yes."

"So you thought you'd have a taste without even asking?"

"I hadn't considered I needed permission to make love to you. It isn't as if you've ever complained where I placed my mouth before. If there something about this that concerns you I will regretfully refrain."

"When you put it like that it seems silly but… I don't know…I'm not sure how I feel about it."

Hannibal continued the contact in a very delicate, non-intrusive way. He drew her into his mouth again and sucked very gently. He didn't respond at all to her statement, instead he continued to attend to his own pleasure. The taste was sweet with a flavor reminiscent of a summer melon. The sticky consistency was appealing as well as it required some effort on his part. It was very sensual experience and one he hoped she might continue to allow.

Clarice roughly tousled his hair to get his attention. "Hey… H?"

Hannibal allowed but a brief pause in the contact, "Yes, Clarice?"

"I said I'm not sure how I feel about this and you didn't respond."

"I assure you I wasn't ignoring you. I was simply allowing you the time to assess your feelings. This is a personal decision, Clarice. I have already displayed how I feel about this new development. You must decide whether or not you wish to disallow the contact. I will respect your feelings though I assure you I will be somewhat disappointed should you deny me this."

"Why would you be disappointed?"

"Because this is something I have never before experienced and you are absolutely delicious my Love."

He returned to her breast this time, latching more firmly to test her resolve.

_Will you deny me or will you surprise me once again, my Love._

Clarice rested quietly considering the situation.

"You're not freaked out about this, H? You don't think it's gross?" she asked with a self-conscious edge to her voice.

Again, a disappointed pause as he responded.

"No, quite the opposite, I am enjoying it immensely, Clarice. It is a part of your body not unlike any other. If you consider this distasteful, I will defer to your wishes but understand that I have no such aversion. In fact I find it quite pleasurable and was hoping you might find it the same."

"It's not milk?"

"No, the milk will come in a day or two after the birth."

"Okay, because an eight or ten pound Hannibal Lecter won't be able to compete for his food with the one hundred eighty pound version."

"Perhaps the child would prefer formula."

"_The child_ gets dibs wise ass, so once he's born, you're either on the wagon or you are second in line. Do we understand each other?"

"We understand each other perfectly, my Love. I am content to wait my turn."

_You are so much more than most. So willing to explore, so willing to trust, I wonder if you know how attractive a trait that is? I am in awe of you, Clarice._

Clarice closed her eyes and allowed Hannibal his enjoyment, finding some of her own in the process. It was a strange sensation. Not at all displeasing, in fact it was _quite_ pleasant. A warm feeling flooded her body as he suckled gently at her breast. It was a surprisingly loving and intimate exchange.

Realizing he had not reached his own completion, Clarice reached below and very gently took him in her hand rolling his flesh back and forth as it tightened with her touch. He moaned softly as she moved up and down the full length of her husband encouraging him further. His hips began to roll very slightly with the rhythm of her touch. He did not release her breast.

"H, I can do more for you if you let go."

Hannibal mumbled the corner of his mouth as with his lips remained latched to her flesh. "Uhn uh."

"So you're staying put?"

"Umm hmm."

He rocked his hips forward, encouraging her to continue. Clarice gripped him firmly. As she moved up and down she would alternately squeeze very gently and relax her hold on him releasing some of the tension and allowing the friction to build. She paused a moment, just to tease.

Hannibal grabbed her wrist and began to move it for her, setting the desired pace.

"Mmmm, Clarice…mmm…like this…don't stop."

"Okay, H, I've got it now…"

Clarice continued the rhythm Hannibal set releasing him for just a moment to roll her cupped palm in tight circles over and over again, rolling it over alternately palming and gripping the most sensitive flesh at the tip.

Hannibal continued to mouth his approval against her flesh moaning softly and rolling his hips along with her hand as she stroked his firmed flesh. Soon he approached rapture causing his heart to race and his breath to hitch intermittently in his throat. His stomach muscles were jumping and tightening with each breathtaking spasm.

This intense contact combined his forced celibacy and the new taste and sensation of his wife's breast, drove his passion bucking his hips in shortened quickened bursts as he moaned deeply and repeated her name over and over again.

Clarice could clearly see her husband's approaching apogee Clarice began to whisper in his ear, "Come for me, H…relax. Just let it go."

Her voice, so soft caressing his ear, gave Hannibal a sudden rush of warmth combined with a burning within the deepest part of him suddenly surged upward causing his muscles to contract for a moment. Feeling the quick spasms, sensing his release was near Clarice intensified her attention to his body.

Within moments, Hannibal's breathing became rough and ragged. Wanting the timing to be just right, he held her breast in his mouth as he began to release his hold on his body.

Clarice could feel the pulsing spasms as his orgasm took hold, the violent shudder forcing his breath to puff quickly from his nose, heating her breasts. As he shook from the release, he latched down and sucked hard on her breast causing her to breath to catch in her throat. The surprising sensation was instantly orgasmic. Allowing the feeling to wash over her, she shook within her husband's arms.

The couple held each other for a very long time as the sensations buzzed along their nerve endings, the afterglow as satisfying, if not more satisfying than the acts themselves.

Hannibal was fully relaxed and at peace with his life as he very slowly drifted off to sleep holding the love of his life in his arms. They remained this way for more than an hour.

Suddenly something stirred Hannibal awake. His nostrils flared as he lifted his head from the pillow and searched the breeze coming in from the window.

He announced a split second before the doorbell rang, "Clarice, I believe we have company."

**UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER MY FRIENDS,**

**LH**


	109. Chapter 109

**TRANSFERENCE**

"Can you tell who's out there or should I worry?"

The curtains flapped with a strong breeze. Hannibal searched the air for a moment to gather the aroma.

"I believe it may be Mariyah as she wears a very distinctive perfume, though from this distance my accuracy could be off."

Clarice released a defeated sigh as she wrapped her arms around her husband and squeezed tightly wanting to draw every ounce of intimacy she could from that last embrace. Releasing him she sat up and slipped her right hand along the curve of her rounded belly. She used the hand both to support the baby as she sat and for solace, disappointed her private time with Hannibal had now come to an end. Clarice reached back to Hannibal and skimmed her hand across his torso allowing the course curls on his chest to tickle her palm.

"I guess it's over, H." She kissed his stomach and patted him gently. As Clarice started to rise from the bed and reach for her robe she hesitated when as she considered what Mariyah would think from her state of undress. She poked Hannibal's back as he had just rolled over.

"Hey, H…maybe I shouldn't go to the door this way. She'll wonder why I'm half-dressed this early in the evening."

Hannibal flipped over, quickly unfurled his arm and like the snap of a bullwhip, grabbed Clarice and reeled her in. He rolled on top of her and began to ravish her. His lips hot as he nuzzled against her neck he teased, "She won't _think_, she'll _know _why you're half-naked this early in the evening. I'm quite sure _everyone knows _what we've been up to after all we _have_ been separated for _three weeks_."

Clarice giggled and pretended she was trying to push him off. "Everyone _might_ know but that doesn't mean I want to run our _bed sheets_ up the flagpole to see who salutes."

With a flirtatious twinkle lighting his eyes Hannibal teased, "I would have no problem marking my territory in that way. I am honored to share your bed and I have no wish to disguise evidence of our congress. I must say Clarice it pains me to think you do not feel the same."

Clarice kissed her husband and smacked him playfully on his backside. Hannibal lifted himself and sat up as he understood loving the gesture meant he would be answering the door.

"Nice try H but you'll be taking one for the team on this one. All you have to do is pull up your pants and slip on your shirt. I have a bra to deal with. Not to mention she's been out there for a while and you can move a lot faster than I can at this point."

Hannibal growled his irritation as he sat on the edge of the bed beside Clarice. He leaned over and kissed the round of her shoulder.

"For you, Clarice, I would be more than happy to, as you say, _take one for the team_."

Hannibal stood quickly from the bed and pulled on his boxers and trousers. He grabbed his shirt and ran from the room stuffing his arms in the sleeves as he hurriedly descended the stairs. The moment he opened the door Mariyah flew into his arms. Caught off guard he hugged her for what he perceived would be polite, stepped back and welcomed her into the home.

"Hello Mariyah, I am surprised to see you so early in the evening."

"Hello, Doctor Lecter. I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to stay for the dinner so I asked the driver to drop me off."

"Of course I don't mind. If you departed prior to the meal being served I would assume you have yet to eat?"

Guiding her by the elbow gently to turn, Hannibal helped her off with her coat and placed it in the hallway closet.

Mariyah watched him, smiling widely as she spoke, "I was bored. I'd rather be hungry than have to sit through all that political mumbling and fake smiling."

As Hannibal turned toward Mariyah he glanced quickly up the stairs wondering how long it would take Clarice to ready herself. Although Mariyah was intelligent and charming Hannibal had no idea how to entertain a teenager and was certain he didn't want to do it for an extended period of time.

_Come along my Love, I am out of my element here._

"I can't say as I blame you but not to worry, you won't go hungry tonight. I was just about to begin preparing the evening meal. Perhaps you would like to relax in the family room and watch television. Clarice is dressing for dinner and will join you shortly."

"Actually, I'd love to help you cook if that's okay."

Hannibal's body stiffened and his nerves rankled just a bit. Though Clarice often sat in the kitchen as he prepared meals his wife didn't enjoy cooking and that suited Hannibal just fine. He didn't mind having an audience and actually enjoyed the intimacy inherent in shared domestication with Clarice but this was different. Mariyah was not Clarice and he didn't believe meal preparation should be a participatory sport.

Mariyah could see Hannibal's hesitation, "If that makes you uncomfortable, I'd understand. When I'm cooking I don't like anyone in my kitchen either."

_My kitchen…interesting…most people would say 'the' kitchen._

Now that he believed Mariyah might have some culinary acumen Hannibal became interested in the level of her ability. He questioned her as he escorted the young lady to the kitchen. "You are a fellow epicure?"

"Nowhere near on your level, Doctor it's more of a hobby, but I'm learning. My knife skills leave a little bit to be desired but I'm really good at creating interesting flavors."

_Knife skills? Oh, I can show you some knife skills._

Hannibal smiled a wicked little smile deciding which of a hundred responses would be most inappropriate. He laughed a little within himself knowing it would be wholly indecent to voice what he was truly thinking. He chose tact though he would've preferred the entertainment of self-deprecation.

"My knife skills are adequate so, if you'd like, I'd be happy to give you a bit of direction. After a few tips I will place you in charge of the chiffonade."

The young lady beamed, "I'd love that!"

Mariyah proudly walked alongside Hannibal. Being several inches shorter than he, she was forced to walk at a faster pace to stay beside him.

Hannibal considered her efforts in his periphery as she lengthened her stride and moved quickly to keep up. Hannibal was curious.

_Why is she attempting to stay in lock step with me?_

Mariyah beamed as they walked side by side.

Stopping in the doorway and making a sweeping gesture with his arm Hannibal beckoned Mariyah to enter. In a moment that brought more questions than answers, his nostrils flared and his eyes shifted for as the young lady passed him in the door way.

_What? Did she intentionally brush against me? _

Though the contact was almost imperceptible his instincts alerted causing him to raise an eyebrow in confusion. Pausing to consider the feedback he decided the momentary flux was more attributable to his tryst with Clarice than anything else thus he ignored the erroneous signals flooding his olfactory system.

_No…I must be wrong._

Clarice showered and dressed arriving in the kitchen to see Hannibal illustrating for Mariyah how to rock the blade of the knife as she chopped the fresh herbs to put the final touches on the meal.

Clarice smiled watching Hannibal played mentor to the young lady. He looked very fatherly and she was heartened by it as it was a role she hoped he might embrace.

"Hey Mariyah did you help H out with dinner?"

The young lady proudly added the herbs each of the finished plates, "Yes, we've made toasted pine nut couscous with garlic shrimp."

For a moment, Clarice's eyes flashed excitement, "Shrimp? Can I eat shrimp?"

Hannibal shook his head, "While the FDA suggests you can consume limited portions I believe the potential mercury content makes the risk to our child greater than the reward to your palate. I have therefore substituted a very flavorful pan seared chicken for your meal, Clarice. Please forgive me."

"I forgive you as long as you know that when this baby is born for that entire first week I'm going to go crazy eating everything I haven't been allowed to eat!"

Hannibal smiled widely as he began to plate the food. "I will prepare anything you wish once the child has arrived safely."

Clarice reached into a basket of freshly baked rolls, tore one open allowing the steam to vent and began to pop small pieces into her mouth.

"I'm serious, H…this means you'll be cooking and bringing food to the hospital, is that a promise?"

"Yes, my Love. I promise. Now if you will take your seat in the dining room we will begin the dinner service."

Mariyah looked up at Hannibal and though she was continuing to cut, she was no longer attending to the process.

Hannibal gave Mariyah, working dutifully beside him, a cautious fatherly nudge the moment he noticed she had taken her eyes from the knife.

"Pay attention Beautiful, though it might appeal to my unusual palate I don't believe my lovely wife would enjoy a fingertip as a garnish."

Mariyah's only response was a self-conscious giggle.

Hannibal held each plate out one by one and very patiently waited as Mariyah sprinkled the garnish on each serving.

Clarice smiled at Hannibal's fatherly attention to the girl. As she turned to exit she did a double take as from the corner of her eye she noticed Mariyah lean her head against Hannibal's arm. He seemed oblivious to her intention but it definitely caught Clarice's attention.

_My poor clueless husband…Good luck with that, H!_

Clarice waited in the dining room for no more than two or three minutes before Hannibal and Mariyah entered from the kitchen carrying the plated food. Hannibal carried a plate for himself and Clarice's plate. Mariyah carried her own dinner. Hannibal held up a hand and excused himself gesturing for the pair of women to begin their meal. Clarice smiled when she heard the blender revving up.

Clarice, not standing on ceremony, followed his lead and began to eat. "It looks like he's gotten a little last minute inspiration. Dig right in, Mariyah. Lord only knows what he's up to."

Mariyah stabbed a bit of food with her fork but paused, fork mid-air to glance with admiration at the kitchen door as if Hannibal was standing there. "He's so great in the kitchen. I mean…he's just so great."

Clarice smiled at the young woman's reaction, "Yeah, he's an incredible man. I don't honestly know what I would do without him."

Mariyah stared off in space and nodded, "Yeah…he's _incredible_."

Clarice had taken enough psychology classes to recognize a classic case of transference when she saw it. "You feel pretty strongly about Hannibal, huh?"

"I do…I _really_ do. It's crazy but there's something about him…he's not like _anyone_ else."

Clarice popped another piece of chicken in her mouth. _That's the granddaddy of all understatements._

Clarice chose a more sedate response, "That's what I love about him."

Mariyah anxiously pushed the food around her plate and occasionally looked over to the kitchen clearly anticipating Hannibal's return. "You know in one of the emails he sent, he told me that I reminded him of you. I guess you weren't very much older than I am right now when you and he first met."

Clarice watched Mariyah watch the door. "Yeah…I was pretty young."

"You weren't afraid of him?"

"I probably should have been afraid but I wasn't. It was a big opportunity for me and I was too young to know how far in over my head I was with Hannibal. He could have torn me apart but instead, he helped me in more ways than one. He has a side to him few people know."

"He said he liked you right away because you were so courageous. That you were the only person who wasn't afraid of him and you actually had the nerve to stand up to him. He told me I have a similar strength. I really respect you so it made me happy to think that might be true."

Clarice looked into Mariyah's eyes and seeing the vulnerability evident from the recent abduction set down her fork, reached across the table and held the young girl's hand. She sought to reinforce the ideas that Hannibal put forth in their comparison.

"You are obviously an incredibly strong person to have survived as long as you did in the company of Stuart Miggs. I don't know that I would have been that controlled if I were in your situation. You engaged him and made him think of you as a person and not a thing to be used. That _was_ courageous and if Hannibal has chosen to compare me to you, I'm proud of that comparison."

Mariyah squeezed Clarice's hand releasing it a moment later when her eyes began to tear. She used a backward swipe to brush the tears from her cheek. "I was so lucky Hannibal saved me."

Clarice countered, "Hannibal helped find you but _your strength_ is what saved you."

Mariyah smiled. The comment seemed to satisfy evident by the shift in conversation.

"Did you like him right away or did it take a while?"

Relieved the discussion shifted from the emotional Clarice answered, "I was intrigued by his insightfulness and the sheer mental power he emanates. I was definitely attracted to him. I think he felt pretty much the same way about me he stayed away for many years."

"Why do you think he stayed away for so long?"

"At the time of his escape I was far too young to be any use to him or myself for that matter. Not to mention the small obstacle of him being a recently escaped convict."

"Yeah, that's hard to believe knowing him now. He must have been kind of scary."

"He's actually exactly the same man he was then. People like to think he's changed because it helps them make sense of him but he's far more complicated than that. He has made adjustments to his personal behavior in order to be married to me. Other than that, he's the same. I wouldn't change him for the world."

As if he timed the entrance Hannibal returned with a tray on which he balanced three filled glasses and a pitcher of the mixture he prepared.

Clarice wished he had arrived a minute or two later. She wanted to assess Mariyah's feelings more directly. She saw the emotional attraction to Hannibal, Mariyah hadn't attempted to mask it, but was she also physically attracted to him. That could prove to be tricky for Hannibal to handle.

_This could get very interesting. Hell, he can handle it. _

Clarice surveyed what looked like a color-tinged glass of milk. "Whatcha got there H?"

He placed the glasses in front of the women before taking one of his own. "I shall leave it to our guest to determine the contents as it was made in her honor."

Mariyah smiled proudly taking the job very seriously. She lifted the glass to her lips and sipped the cold liquid. "Oh my goodness it's Jawafa bil-Laban."

Clarice looked over to Hannibal, "Okay genius, translation, please."

"It is a blended drink with guava and milk. It is very popular in Egypt, refreshing and quite healthy. Trust me, the baby will love it."

"And I will love it when the baby is here so I can have a glass of wine with my dinner instead of milk! I'm going to be making a list of requests for the first week so you can have the groceries ready in advance. You will be cooking your ass off, H."

_Cooking his ass off!_ Mariyah giggled at the irreverent thought.

After the meal, Hannibal built a fire and insisted the women relax in the family room. He served cappuccino and homemade cannoli with the tips dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in nuts. He then hurried to the kitchen to clean considering himself fortunate to have escaped once again.

Clarice and Mariyah sat together watching television with Mariyah continuing to ask Clarice all manner of questions about Hannibal.

Clarice answered each and every question put to her as they were harmless not overtly personal in nature. She was touched by the young lady's crush and couldn't wait to push the two of them together. She wanted to see how Hannibal might handle a teenage girl with what appeared to be an absolutely unshakable crush on him.

_Oh, this is too priceless. H…I can't wait to see how you handle this! I'm gonna enjoy every blessed minute! _

Unsuspecting of his predicament with Mariyah and totally unaware of Clarice's intentions Hannibal returned to the family room. As the women were curled up on the sofa, Hannibal picked up his book, moved to the large wing chair and began to read by the fire. Clarice waited fifteen or twenty minutes, allowing him to settle in before she dropped the proverbial hammer on him.

"I hope you'll both excuse me. I don't know why, but I'm really tired. It's been a crazy day so I think I'll just head upstairs."

Realizing he was being abandoned and would be forced to entertain Mariyah exclusively Hannibal's head spun to Clarice.

"My Love, are you ill? Do you have need of me?"

Clarice walked behind the chair Hannibal was sitting on and draped her arms over the back of the chair, holding him from behind and kissing the top of his head. She tousled the hair on his head as she walked away. "No, I just need to sleep. Don't mind me. Enjoy yourself."

Hannibal quickly closed his book and leaned forward, "Clarice?"

Clarice stopped in the doorway and, as if it were an afterthought, spoke her well-planned suggestion.

"Why don't you show Mariyah your telescope, H? It's in her room and it's a really warm night. You can take it out on the balcony. I put a couple of chairs out there and on such a lovely clear night what's better than a little stargazing?"

Hannibal glared at Clarice, his eyes flaming with irritation as he saw the amusement dancing in her eyes. _Bamboo shoots driven under my finger nail beds would be preferable to this._ Instead he answered, "I'm not at all certain that is the way Mariyah wants to spend her evening."

Mariyah beamed as her eyes shone with excitement.

"That would be so incredible, would you please, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal didn't respond, instead he arched a suspicious eyebrow in the direction of Clarice.

Clarice was thoroughly entertained by her husband's discomfited expression.

"It would be incredible, H!" his wife teased.

Being an exceptional host, Hannibal had no choice but to concede, "I would be more than happy to show you how to use the telescope, Mariyah."

He turned to his wife, "Not to worry, Clarice. You go rest your beautiful head on the pillow. I will join you after Mariyah and I have had the opportunity to enjoy the stars."

Clarice walked up to Hannibal and draped her arms around his neck. She leaned in close, pressed against his body to the extent her pregnancy allowed and whispered in his ear, "Good luck, H…Have fun with your little friend."

He whispered in return, "Rest assured, I will avenge this little prank of yours, Clarice."

Again, she spoke low in his ear, "Who are you Michael Corleone?" She teased. Clarice then grabbed Hannibal's face with both hands and aggressively kissed his left cheek, "I know it was you, Fredo…you broke my heart…you broke my heart!"

Hannibal nodded at Clarice's Godfather reference, "Amusing…very amusing."

Clarice left Hannibal standing in front of the now dying fire pondering what topic of conversation might appeal to a nineteen year old girl. The moment Clarice left the pair in the room Hannibal very quickly waved Mariyah along. She followed happily like a puppy nipping along at his heels.

_I haven't clue one what young women think about. Not to mention the mixed signals…I am definitely in over my head with this. Perhaps Clarice was merely teasing._

Hannibal chased Clarice up the stairs with Mariyah a mere two steps behind.

"Are you certain you won't join us, Clarice?"

Clarice continued to walk until she reached the upper landing, "I wish I could, H…I'm just too exhausted. You understand, don't you?"

Hannibal responded barely masking the dripping sarcasm, "Oh, yes…I most certainly do _understand,_ Clarice."

Clarice winked at Hannibal then hugged Mariyah. "I'll see you in the morning, Mariyah."

Mariyah was more than just a little excited to say goodnight to Clarice hugging her tightly, "Thanks so much, Mrs. Lecter. It's been a wonderful trip. I've really enjoyed my time with you."

"And now, after you travelled all this way to help out, you can enjoy your time with Hannibal."

A response wasn't needed. Mariyah's blushing complexion made that statement rhetorical.

Clarice excused herself and went to the master suite giggling the entire way.

Hannibal stood at the top of the stairs and turned to Mariyah, "Come along my young friend and let us explore the stars together, shall we?"

Mariyah beamed as her mind tumbled with possibilities, "I'd _love_ to."

_Until the next chapter my friends!_

_LH_


	110. Chapter 110

**A FRIEND IN NEED**

Mariyah entered the bedroom before Hannibal and sat on the edge of the bed nervously smoothing her hands over the luxurious down comforter. Tugging and twisting the neatly turned tassels on the matching pillows she tested her resolve and found herself equal to the task.

_You go home tomorrow. It has to be tonight. _

Suddenly she reached for the hem of her garment.

Hannibal quickly followed and without attending at all to what the young woman was doing moved with purpose directly to the telescope. His eyes did not shift to her though he could see everything Mariyah was doing.

_She is removing her sweater_.

He held the breath he was about to exhale several seconds until the dread left him. Thankfully she had another shirt beneath.

_I know you find this entertaining but I am not amused, Clarice. _

Moving toward the french doors leading to the balcony with the haste of a man in need of an escape route Hannibal threw them open, stood before the easement and breathed deeply. It was a warm, musty spring-like night and though the sky was clear, there was a hint of pending rain in the air reminding him of Florence.

A quick stroll through his memory brought him back to that place. He could feel the rubber twisting in his hands as he fashioned a noose from the power cord. He remembered slipping it over the head of the traitor as his quickly, though carefully made plan fell into place.

To make the moment even more consequential and momentous in his mind, Clarice had called. It was as close to a perfect death as he had ever designed. The remembrance of the event caused his lips to curl into a devious smile wishing he had Rinaldo Pazzi to toss over the rail once again. Though the Sardinian's were in pursuit and death chased him at every turn it was preferable to this situation. That was a challenge. That was exhilarating. This was frustration in the extreme.

_Thank god the baby is a boy. I don't think I'm ready to deal with the challenges of a girl. Not yet anyway. _

The doors now opened, Hannibal lifted the large mounted telescope along with the tripod and carried it onto the balcony.

After setting up and briefly testing the equipment Hannibal sat on one of the wicker chairs placed by Clarice and called to Mariyah. "If you would like to participate, I can show you how to use the settings to find constellations and individual stars."

Mariyah sat in the chair beside Hannibal holding herself in comfort and cold answering coyly, "I'd rather just look. I'm sure you know a lot about this sort of thing. It looks very delicate and I wouldn't want to break it."

Relieved that Mariyah had little interest in the process itself, Hannibal believed after a brief conversation, it might be possible to delicately extricate from the situation. He attempted to keep his cadence very even and removed every shred of emotive tone. He would not lead the conversation toward anything personal but would instead allow Mariyah to direct. Hannibal would follow the topic of her choice at whatever pace the young lady set.

_By your scent I know what is in your heart, now let us see what you have on your mind._

Though Hannibal's body language was relaxed his posture remained perfectly perpendicular as he turned toward Mariyah and offered, "There are several celestial bodies that are quite prominent during the month of March. Shall I make a suggestion?"

Mariyah settled into her chair and scooted it quickly along the ground toward the object of her desire in order that the arm of her chair touched Hannibal's chair. She leaned into his body and tipped her head slightly that it might rest gently against his arm. Hannibal did not react to her proximity though he could clearly sense the changes in hers.

_This may prove to be quite the challenge indeed._

Now settled, she breathed deeply and attempted to memorize the feel of his body against hers and the smell of his cologne.

_He's perfect…he's just perfect._

Feeling relaxed in his presence and brimming with the anticipation of what her boldness might bring she responded, "Yes, that would be lovely thank you."

Hannibal quickly began to manipulate the settings on the telescope as he narrated his progress.

"Right ascension 9.68 hours, declination -47.45, Suhail al Muhlif, it is a star in the constellation Vela, the sail from Argo Navis."

Mariyah continued to engage him in conversation as she hung on his every word. "What is Argo Navis?"

"It refers to the ship from the tales of Jason and the Argonauts. We would have much better viewing if we were south of latitude 33 degrees, but being that we are approximately 39 degrees 29 north, though not optimum, it is visible. Do you know the translation for the name?"

"Is that Arabic? Does it mean gem of the skies?"

"Yes, it is ancient Arabic meaning the spectral gem of the southern skies. Would you like to have a look? It is quite lovely."

Smiling widely she answered, "I would like that very much."

Mariyah stood in front of the telescope, bent to the eyepiece and staring out at the star listened intently for Hannibal's description.

Hannibal watched her carefully, assessing her responses. Based on her respirations he could tell that her heart rate was elevating. Pheromones flowed freely, but not between them as there was no exchange on his part. He continued, business-like in his presentation.

"This particular constellation has many double stars that can be easily seen with binoculars. You would have no need for a telescope. Are you interested in astronomy?"

"I like to look at the stars but it's more for the romantic nature of them than any interest in the science of astronomy."

She scuffed a foot along the ground obviously anxious and having something bubbling just beneath the surface. It was obviously something important to her, though she seemed hesitant to articulate.

"There is something you would like to say, yes?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Yet you hesitate. You need not. There is nothing you can say to me that would change my feelings for you. Please trust that I am your friend and as such, there is nothing you cannot express."

Finally, Mariyah, eyes wide, took a deep breath, gathered her courage and exhaled her relief as she spoke the question, "Can I be_ really_ honest with you, Doctor Lecter?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood. The question was packed with a combination of innocence and anticipation. He spoke quietly, "Yes, please, I would very much appreciate your honesty."

Mariyah glanced over her shoulder and turned her dark eyes up at the sky as if the answers to all of her life's questions were written in the stars.

Hannibal admired her as she pulled the elastic from her pony tail and shook her head from side to side loosening the dark brown hair, thick with the curls of her ancestors, cascading down her back.

_Her heart is strong and her mind is sound. She is a lovely and worthy young woman. How courageous._

She didn't shift her head as she stood in front of the man she loved; the man someone else loved as well. Hannibal Lecter was a god in her eyes.

She turned her face to the heavens for courage, her voice strong as she spoke her heart. "Even though I know there is a time difference between our countries I would very often look at the stars at night and wonder if you were looking up at them too. It made me feel as close to you then, as I am now."

Hannibal was touched by the gentle and loving nature of her comment and supported her feelings even as he redirected them, "_Good friends _often share that kind of bond. I am _very_ proud you consider me a friend."

Mariyah turned to face him thrilled not to have been rejected out of turn. "Did you and Clarice start off as friends?"

Hannibal smiled at the question.

_She is both perceptive and persistent. Yes, quite impressive._

"Not as such. No. It was much more of a mentoring relationship as she was much younger than I at the time of our first meeting. She had yet to come into her own."

_My lioness was yet a cub._

Her voice hopeful, "Was it kind of like we are now?"

Hannibal knew he should not reinforce that thought. Again the slightest shift in perception would be needed.

"Though I _am_ older than Clarice, I am _much_ older than you are Mariyah, and though she was a student, keep in mind that she was already working with the FBI and was finishing her degree. That would make her then a few years older than you are now as you are just embarking on your education, are you not?"

"I'm a freshman, yes, but that's only a difference of three or four years."

Hannibal needed to illustrate the differences between Mariyah and Clarice in relation to him without making her feel _less than_. He proceeded with as much sensitivity as possible.

"When you consider the span of a human life, some years are more important developmentally than others. For example, I am very much the same man I was four years ago. That span of time has altered me somewhat, though not decidedly so. The same amount of relative time passed from my first to my fifth birthday yet developmentally _much_ occurred. You are undergoing a similarly important transformation as you are just now moving from adolescence to adulthood. These next four years are very important as you will evolve in ways you are just beginning to understand. What you want now, you may not want in four years."

Mariyah was only slightly defensive. She looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts as clouds gather before a storm and when she turned and met his eyes she spoke with a conviction not present in her voice moments before.

"I already know what I want. I know what I want my future to be."

Though she seemed resolute, Hannibal had successfully shaped a question in her mind. He could see it forming and thus added to its armature.

"That may change. Don't forget that you have recently experienced a very traumatic event. You are still experiencing many varied responses. Now is not the time to make major life decisions. You need time to heal."

Mariyah reached for Hannibal and grasped his shoulders and shook him as if attempting to wake something within. "I need _you_ to heal."

He allowed the intrusion into his personal space but kept her at the arm's length she established.

"I am _always_ here for you, Mariyah. I am your friend now. I will continue to be your friend."

"I can't tell you how happy that makes me." Mariyah stood in front of Hannibal holding his shoulders and searching his eyes.

Hannibal intentionally slowed his heart rate and waited for her next move, though he did not look forward to it.

Suddenly his sense of smell told him he had reason to be concerned, though it had nothing to do with Mariyah.

_I thought there would be more time.__** This**__ I did __**not**__ need. _

Mariyah took two hesitant steps in Hannibal's direction. He sat very still, not wanting to encourage or discourage additional physical contact as he understood this young lady had recently experienced trauma. She had been used by a deviant and Hannibal did not wish her to begin seeing men as dominant forces seeking her for sexual satisfaction.

Hannibal felt that Mariyah needed to connect love and care with future relationships and as he was the object of her affection he needed to proceed with caution. His goal was to guide her through this process without leaving her feeling rejected.

_Still, there remains the additional concern I hope will not come into play. I will continue and trust that you handled this, Clarice. I know you would not leave me in this precarious a position. Trust…I trust you, Clarice._

He gathered himself and closed his eyes as Mariyah approached him.

The young woman closed the space between them, slipped her hands from his shoulders sliding them under his arms, and began to smooth them up and down his back. She sat on his left thigh curling her body against him as she embraced him and rested her head on his chest.

_I can hear him breathe. I can feel his heart beating. He is__** perfect**__. This __**moment**__ is __**perfect**__._

Hannibal's heart rate remained steady and unyielding as he felt the heat emanating from her small frame. She was very similar in body type to Clarice, though his wife had a wiry strength not present in Mariyah who was waifish in her build and whose ribs could be felt through her back.

_She has not regained all of the weight lost in Stuart's company. There is additional healing to be done._

His body stiffened though not in the way Mariyah might have erroneously convinced herself she would prefer. Knowing this was a delicate situation and being concerned with Mariyah's mental health, Hannibal allowed the contact though he was careful not to escalate or entice it. He placed his hands on her shoulder blades and held her very gently for a moment.

As Hannibal spoke, he was careful that his voice be not only non-threatening but that it carry into the next room, "Mariyah, what are your feelings about me? What are your thoughts?"

She spoke against his chest, hiding her face, "I…I don't want to say."

Hannibal leaned back and lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes, "Do you not you trust me?"

She looked up, her eyes vulnerable and filled with hope, "Yes…I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone."

Hannibal continued to hold her and speak in a level that remained steady and calm, "You say that you trust me and yet there is something you do not wish to share with me?"

Mariyah shifted uncomfortably as she began to lend voice to her emotions. "You don't understand. Sharing with you isn't the problem."

Hannibal continued to support her with his voice and with his body language as he held her gently, "What is the problem? I would like to help if I can. What won't you share with me?"

She lifted her head, boldly took his eyes within her own and stated, "There isn't a thing I _won't_ share with you."

The direct nature of the statement gave Hannibal pause though his demeanor remained unchanged. His nostrils flared. He ignored the pheromones and searched for the additional stimuli hoping the suggestive nature of the statement had not aroused a reaction.

_There is no additional movement. Thank you, Clarice._

Hannibal gently pursued. "Could you be more specific?"

She snuggled against him and climbed further into his lap. "I think I love you and because we're friends it upsets me."

Hannibal was careful to maintain full control of his physiology to insure this more intensive contact against his groin did not generate an autonomic response. He continued his fatherly tone.

"While I do not doubt you feel love for me, love can take _many_ forms, Mariyah. There is no shame in loving a person and therefore no need for upset. For example, as you pointed out, we _are_ friends and _friends _can have a special bond and a very deep love for one another. Do you like Clarice? Is she your friend as well?"

Mariyah lifted her face from Hannibal's chest in order to look into his eyes. She wanted desperately to convince him of her feelings for Clarice.

"Yes, I hope she's my friend. I would _love_ to be _exactly_ like her. Yes…I like her. I like her very, very much. Do you believe me? It's really, really, important that you believe me."

Hannibal was curious as to why that particular point seemed of such import. He stored it and nodded, "Yes, I believe that you have very strong feelings for Clarice. Of course you must know that I do as well. I love her very much and as such I could never hurt her in any way."

"I don't want to hurt her and I don't want you to hurt her either…I really don't."

Hannibal pulled her close for a moment to illustrate his arms encircling her body. "Do you think she would be upset if she saw me holding you in this way?"

A quizzical looked crossed her face, "I don't know why she would be."

Hannibal shifted to see her face more clearly, "If you and I were married, and I held another woman in my arms. If another woman held me in this way, would it cause distress?"

Mariyah was getting to the heart of her desire and approached the subject with caution.

"If she was a total stranger to me I would be upset but I wouldn't be upset if she was…"

She stopped abruptly.

_Whatever she is about to say, it is important._

Hannibal sensed they had reached the crux of the situation and sought clarity, "You were about to make a statement and stopped. Please continue, this is very important… if she were what, Mariyah?"

Mariyah spoke just above a whisper, "…if she was your _second_ wife."

_This will hurt her._

Hannibal was touched by the honesty and kissed the tops of Mariyah's hands as he explained, "Mariyah, my wife is mere weeks away from delivering my first born son. I waited a decade and sacrificed much to be worthy of Clarice. I love her very much and would never consider a divorce. There is no possibility that I will ever have a second wife."

The statement caused concern for Mariyah. She had only connected her feelings for Hannibal to Clarice's feelings on the most basic of levels. She reluctantly released Hannibal, stood and moved to the rail of the balcony. She sighed deeply as she looked out at the night sky.

_He doesn't understand._

Mariyah turned suddenly and leaned backward against the railing of the balcony for support. She spoke quickly as if the momentum of the sentences would carry her courage to the end.

"I didn't say you should divorce Clarice, I love Clarice. I wouldn't want to hurt her at all and I understand that you love her and the she deserves respect. I thought that maybe she could be your First and I could be your Second. We could both be your wives. Very affluent men in Egypt still have that option. You are a very affluent man and you wouldn't have to worry about Clarice because I could help her with the baby and learn from her. She likes me, I know she does. I think we would all be very happy together."

As it was a much more secular country than its other African neighbors, Hannibal hadn't thought to consider that polygyny might have remained legal in Egypt.

Hannibal stood and joined the young girl at the rail. He hugged Mariyah tightly for a moment reached for one of her hands and kissed it very tenderly.

"Mariyah, it is very sweet of you to think of me in that way, and I am so honored that you would consider me worthy of your love but when I married Clarice, on that day, I promised myself to her and to her alone. Please know how much I care for you and know how so sorry I am if the knowledge of that upsets you."

"It does upset me… a lot."

Again, he held her against him. The hug was one of comfort and concern. There was no hint of sexuality on his end.

"That is distressful to me as the last thing I wish to do is to hurt you. You have become very important to me and I want you to understand that my feelings for you have not diminished. One day you will meet a young man you truly love and he will promise himself to you. You deserve not to be someone's second. You deserve to be their one and only."

Embarrassed by what she was about to say, she again spoke against his chest squeezing his body to extract some measure of strength from him.

"I've never been with anyone. I wanted you to…I wanted it to be you. I still want it to be you."

Hannibal again searched the air for either movement or the threat of anger.

_If there is no reaction after that comment, it is probably under control._

"Mariyah, you have been through a very traumatic event and were more than fortunate to escape that situation with your chastity intact. Now is not the time to make that decision. Please, promise me that you will offer that gift to someone who truly deserves the honor."

There was a yearning in her voice, yet it seemed strangely non-sexual. The need was for closeness, not for sexual release, though Mariyah would have argued that point.

"You saved me. _You_ deserve the honor."

Hannibal persisted, "I don't, Mariyah. I don't deserve it because I cannot give myself to you mind, body and soul. Do you understand that you deserve better than that? You must make the young man of your choosing _earn _this gift. _Especially_ in your culture, this is_ not_ something to be taken lightly."

Mariyah conceded, "Are you mad at me…are we still friends?"

Warmth flooded his voice, "Yes. We are still friends and as your friend, I will love you and honor you always. If you ever have need of me you need only ask. I will be forever in your debt."

Mariyah nodded. Hannibal could see she was cold and wanted to bring her indoors but hesitated as the scent in the next room was still present. He thought it best to announce his intention.

"I believe we have enjoyed the stars long enough. You appear cold. Perhaps we should go inside?"

He paused before guiding her in through the doors and searched the air for information.

_Gone. _

Hannibal escorted Mariyah through the doors and carried the telescope into the room. As he set it up Mariyah sat on the bed and spoke softly.

"Would you mind if I went to bed, Doctor Lecter? I'm really tired."

Hannibal understood, "Not at all, Mariyah. If you need anything, let me know."

He kissed the top of her head.

Mariyah reached up and hugged him. "Do you _really_ love me…Even after I said all of those things?"

"Yes, Mariyah, I love you still. Sleep well my dear friend."

Hannibal left Mariyah smiling.

_He loves me._

As Hannibal exited the bedroom and entered the hallway he immediately turned to the left to address the source of his concern. There, standing just outside the door was Anwar Bashandi.

"You are a gentleman and a true friend. Thank you, Doctor Lecter. Thank you."

Hannibal nodded an acknowledgement as words were not needed. He then turned and headed to his bedroom suite slapped the latch and swung the door open.

Clarice, now feeling just a bit uneasy pushed herself up against the headboard for support.

Hannibal Lecter, fresh from a very uncomfortable situation with a lovesick teenager stood at the foot of his bed and glared at his wife as he hissed his approach. "Well hello, _Clariiice_."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	111. Chapter 111

**Thanks to BG for the suggestion! **

**PREPARING FOR THE WORST**

Clarice cuddled into the nest of pillows assembled on her bed congratulating herself on the prank she played on her husband. For one brief moment she felt a slight pang of regret for the awkward position she put him in but quickly brushed that aside.

_Heck he had to deal with that eventually and he __**is**__ a psychiatrist so he sure as hell can handle one little love struck teenager. _

She giggled aloud imagining Hannibal's skin crawling as the girl poured out her love to him from emotional buckets brimming with teenaged angst.

_I almost feel sorry for you, H…almost._

It was thoroughly amusing and her enjoyment was immense until the very moment she got the call on her cell from Pearsall that the prime minister was returning to the home. Suddenly panicked, she ran downstairs, watched the security cameras and nervously awaited his arrival.

_Jesus, if he walks in on the middle of it he'll probably go bat shit insane and ruin that girl for life_. _Oh, God…Hannibal is going to kill me. I didn't even consider Bashandi might be back by now. Dammit! How could I have been so freaking stupid!_

As the car pulled up Clarice anxiously stood on the landing and greeted Anwar Bashandi at the door.

"Good evening Mr. Prime Minister, did you enjoy your time at the White House?"

Though the exhaustion of the day was evident, Bashandi cut an impressive figure dressed in a meticulously tailored tuxedo and white tie. The prime minister's posture was uncharacteristically stooped as he entered the home, Clarice anticipated from a combination of jet lag and the strain of the day.

_He looks exhausted so he'll be on edge. That's not promising._

Bashandi's voice was thick with phlegm as his vocal cords, unaccustomed to the burgeoning pollen of a Baltimore spring, cracked somewhat the moment he spoke, "Not especially, these things are more for show than anything else as nothing of substance takes place. I allowed Mariyah to leave early. I trust, as the driver informed, that she arrived safely and has been no trouble. Do you know if she is in her room? I should like to discuss our travel plans for the morning."

Clarice's stomach turned as she anticipated and braced herself for the inevitable misunderstanding.

_How the hell am I going to explain this?_

Clarice "Yes, she_ is_ in her room. May I ask that you postpone your visit for a time? She is with Hannibal now and the situation is a bit…_sensitive_."

Bashandi's spent body stiffened as his face flushed full red. He made no effort to temper the insinuation shaping his tone, "Your husband is _alone_ with my daughter in her _bedroom_ and you wish me to _stay away_? Is _that_ what you are _suggesting_ to me?"

Clarice remained unflappable, "Yes, Sir that is precisely what I am suggesting."

Bashandi was not amused, "Mrs. Lecter, this is inappropriate in the extreme and cause for immediate concern. How long have they been unsupervised? Were you with them up to this point?"

Her tone measured, Clarice was both restrained and reserved hoping Bashandi might take a cue from her emotional state and thus calm, "No, this is something Hannibal needs to handle alone. Please, may I ask that you join me in the family room? I'll explain everything but I can see you're upset and I don't want our voices to carry up the stairs. It's really important that your daughter doesn't know you've returned."

Indignity now fully entrenched Bashandi protested vehemently, "Mrs. Lecter!"

Clarice very gently took the larger man by his elbow and began to physically guide his movement. "Please…please, I'll explain everything. Join me."

Clarice led Bashandi into the family room. Turned loose like a bull released from a chute Bashandi immediately chose the seat of power standing beside Hannibal's chair next to the fireplace. Unconvinced, he did not sit but instead dropped his hands on the back of the chair and, clearly angry and supremely frustrated, gripped the tufted fabric until his knuckles drained white. A shroud of anger began to mask his face.

_Believe me…please, hear me and believe me…_

Clarice perused his expression as she framed the argument in her mind watching him carefully trying to determine whether or not she had thrown her beleaguered husband to the proverbial wolves.

It was obvious not only by Bashandi's expression, but also his body language that he was very agitated. His voice reflected not only concern, but, true offense as he demanded, "Please explain to me immediately why I should not _barge_ into that room and_ drag_ your husband either _off_ _of _or _from _my daughter?"

_Drag Hannibal? I'd like to see you fucking try! _

Though she was enraged at the blatant accusation, Clarice understood the stress this man was under and very quickly regrouped. Calm restraint, though not her strong suit, was what was now needed.

_Okay, let's see how trusting you are my friend. For H's sake, I need you to work with me._

The concerned wife took a very deep breath and presented her case as dispassionately as possible.

"Hannibal is dealing with a situation that is very important to your daughter's future emotional development. He is, I'm sure by now, offering her some very therapeutic attention."

Bashandi spoke through gritted teeth, "Is _therapeutic attention _a euphemism for some sort of sexual contact?"

Standing in the doorway with her arms folded defiantly across her chest a very pregnant Clarice Lecter stood her physical and emotional ground as well, "Mr. Prime Minister, out of respect to you I am going to ignore that offensive accusation as it is patently ridiculous."

The prime minister paced around the chair dragging his hand along the top of it as he moved back and forth. He was deliberate and precise in his speech as he thoroughly pressed his point.

"Mrs. Lecter, I would be amiss if I didn't fully disclose to you that I have an extremely thorough security team and during the vetting process I was informed that you have had some very severe complications to your pregnancy that precludes intercourse. I am forced to question if my young daughter is at this moment servicing your husband in your stead?"

Clarice was devastated by the comment but had learned from Hannibal not to be obvious in her emotional responses. She could hear Hannibal's words ringing in her ears.

_Information is power. Do not be free in relinquishing it. Turn your anger to advantage Clarice and bend it to your will._

She drew in a breath and gathered herself.

_Don't give him the fucking satisfaction, Clarice. Don't show him you are upset or he'll think you doubt Hannibal. Be calm. If he knows you trust H…Maybe he will too. _

"Your daughter has undergone very serious and still very recent emotional trauma. She is, right now, upstairs pouring out her heart and soul to him so if you go up there and barge in like you've got something to prove and she'll be embarrassed and emotionally retreat. Let him do what he does best. He's a Doctor and he really cares about her. Stay away and let him help."

Bashandi circled the chair as he processed what she said and attempted to justify his concerns.

"She is a vulnerable girl and could easily be taken advantage of. As I said, I have a very thorough security team and have myself, visited several sites on the internet dedicated to your husband's…interests. While that proclivity may have given him the tools to find Stuart Miggs that information, though admittedly almost two decades old, gives me additional pause in regards to trusting Hannibal Lecter with my daughter."

_But it was okay when you needed him to find that pervert! Fuck you, Mr. Prime Minister! Fuck you! _

Clarice stood deadly still. Her mind was reeling and she felt it necessary to conserve her movement so as not to falter. She honed the edge to her voice without oiling it with anger.

"What are you intimating, Sir?"

A tall man, Bashandi took two long steps toward Clarice. As she was pregnant and feeling emotional, there was unintended menace to the gesture.

"Only that I am acutely aware your husband has had quite a rapacious past and as had some very, shall we say, adventurous exploits. It is well-known that his varied tastes ran to the extreme."

Clarice stood firmly on both legs careful not to shift her body position and signal either physical or emotion weakness. Her voice was confident and steady with an unambiguous air of defiance as she stepped toward Bashandi, closing the distance and seizing the power in the room.

"If you are attempting to shock or offend need I remind you that I'm married to _Hannibal Lecter_ so just so we are very clear, he and I _have_ no secrets…_None_. I've been on the internet and I've spoken with my husband at great length in reference to his sexual rapacity. I assure you that he is, by his very nature, monogamous and while his libido's admittedly more active than most I take pride as his wife in keeping him _very, very fulfilled._ Let me also confirm that while his exploits had been unusual, his attraction, even at the height of his sexual experimentation, was to women, _not children_."

Bashandi was now feeling a bit embarrassed and more than a bit contrite. His voice softened somewhat.

"She thinks highly of him. It would be very easy for Doctor Lecter to manipulate those feelings."

Clarice began to drive the point forward, "She doesn't only think _highly_ of him, she's _in_ _love_ with him. Busting in to break up a situation that isn't happening due and embarrassing her would injure her immensely. She's telling him how much she loves him…maybe even how much she wants him…sexually. That makes her unbelievably vulnerable and if you burst into the middle of that it will be mortifying for her. Hannibal is a trained psychiatrist. He was the best in his field. He won't hurt your daughter. He only wants to help her but this is a very tricky task. She is indeed vulnerable as you said yourself. You and I both know that he won't hurt her but _your_ presence _might_."

Bashandi attempted to exit the room. Clarice moved in front of him very effectively blocking is path. The prime minister was becoming more and more agitated by the moment. He stabbed at the air with his index finger as he pointed to the second floor of the home.

"Mrs. Lecter I understand your desire to defend your husband but I'm going up those stairs and I am going to see for myself exactly what is going on."

Bashandi attempted to move to past her in the doorway but truly believing she needed to protect her husband, Clarice again blocked his egress with her tiny, pregnant body and stood her ground.

"I'm sorry Mr. Prime Minster, forgive my impertinence but I am not letting you by me unless you make me a promise."

Frustrated by this dance of refusal he questioned, "What promise?"

_Yes! He may be willing to consider an alternative. Just offer a valid compromise…you have one shot at this, Clarice._

"Go upstairs. They are in Mariyah's room just outside on the balcony with the telescope. From that angle, they can't see the bed so you can sit and listen to everything that's happening but you have to promise that under no circumstances will you interrupt the process. _Don't _let Mariyah know you are listening. Don't let on that you are near. No matter what you hear, don't react to anything Mariyah says. Listen only to Hannibal. You will see that he is not only a perfect gentleman but you'll know that he has absolutely no sexual intentions in regards to your daughter. He is your _good friend_. He wouldn't jeopardize that friendship as he has too much admiration and respect for you. He_ is_ your friend."

Bashandi seemed willing to entertain this contingency, "How will I know when to leave the room without being seen?"

Convinced of her husband's predatory gifts, Clarice knew her husband would be aware of Bashandi's presence the moment he stepped off the staircase and onto the landing. She wouldn't need to warn him, but she hoped he would trust her and continue. Otherwise, Bashandi might sense disrupt and believe that Hannibal had, indeed, been up to something unseemly.

_Just do what you have to do, H…leave the rest to me…_

"Hannibal will invite Mariyah to exit the balcony when he's decided they need to go back into the room."

"What if he doesn't? I would have no warning and she might see me."

_He needs to know he won't hurt his daughter by his presence. We're making progress._

Seeking to offer the guarantee he needed, Clarice was adamant. She knew Hannibal would pick up Bashandi's scent the moment he entered the bedroom. He would definitely be very clear in his warning hoping she had explained the situation.

_I trust you, H…don't let me down…you're gonna have to trust me too. It's not like I can tell the man you'll smell him a mile off._

Speaking with the confidence of knowing her husband, Clarice offered, "He will absolutely without any doubt clearly direct her to precede him. My husband is of noble birth. He would never ignore his home training or his manners by preceding a woman through a doorway so he'll verbally invite her to exit. When he does, you can quickly step out and she will never know."

Bashandi considered the man who had sacrificed his own safety to find Mariyah. There was a measure of guilt in his voice as he considered Hannibal's innocence in this.

"What about Doctor Lecter? If it is as you say and there is no ill intent, will he not see this as an intrusion?"

"You can let him know you listened to the conversation in your own time and your own way."

"Will he not be offended?"

"He'll understand your intention is to protect your daughter. Trust me…he won't take offense."

"All right, I won't intervene. I'll listen. Not because I truly believe your husband means to do her harm but because it is my responsibility as her parent to supervise her in all things. This is no different. I would be shirking my duties as her father if I ignored this untidy element of her life."

Clarice sighed her relief slowly so as not to be obvious to Bashandi.

"May I say, Mr. Prime Minister, that you are an exceptional role model in that regard, Sir. I hope to show the same dedication to my child as you are showing to yours. Mariyah is a fortunate young lady."

His paternal ego sufficiently preened, Anwar Bashandi smoothed his ruffled feathers. "I'll enter the room and sit quietly. If you are correct, when Doctor Lecter invites Mariyah back into the bedroom, I will slip quietly out."

Clarice stepped to the side and allowed Bashandi to pass, walking with him quietly to the staircase, "And for Mariyah's sake, you promise you will not under any circumstances interrupt?"

Bashandi gripped the ornately carved bannister and looked up the stairs with a mind to what he would encounter, "I will not interrupt unless harm is coming to my daughter. One would think that would be an acceptable caveat."

Clarice stood beside the taller man grateful for his cooperation, "That's a more than acceptable caveat. Thanks for showing trust where your daughter and Hannibal are concerned. I'm sure it's difficult."

He began to ascend with Clarice a step behind, "You are passionate in your defense of you husband. He is an unusual man. I hope I do not find your defense of him is misplaced. Your husband is an unusual man and as such it is difficult to predict his behavior."

When finally they reached the top of the stairs and faced each other Clarice explained, "Mr. Prime Minister my husband is indeed an unusual man, but he _is_ a _man_ not some sort of monster. If there is a thing called a life essence, where most people have a pilot light, he has an inferno, but he is an honorable man. I trust him with my life."

"And I am again trusting him with my daughter's life."

"He was equal to the task the first time. He is even more equal to it now. Not to worry, she is in good hands, figuratively speaking of course."

"Of course."

Anwar Bashandi slipped quietly into the bedroom his daughter occupied prepared for the worst.

Clarice cuddled once again in her nest of pillows prepared for the same.

_Until the next chapter my friends!_

_LH _


	112. Chapter 112

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**To my fan fic friends- My husband returned home from the hospital for the first time in several months today. Thanks to those who have inquired and sent their good wishes and prayers. You made a difficult time much easier to bear. To Little Lecter, a very special thanks. TWIN!**

**THE APOLOGY**

Based on the way he entered the room, as far as Clarice could tell Hannibal was definitely not himself. Well, not the _self_ she had grown to love anyway. There was a stalking quality about his movements, something of the dungeon leaking out from within, she suspected.

_Old habits die hard. He may be feeling some after effects; old memories must get stirred up every time this sort of thing happens. Thankfully, this will be the last time he'll have to go through anything like this. He deserves peace._

She could clearly see by his body language and his facial expression that Hannibal was not pleased. He approached slowly, sat on the edge of the bed, and bent to remove his shoes. As he lined them up beside his bedside table, Hannibal leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and allowed his head to hang low.

This body position concerned his wife. "Hey…you okay, H?"

Hannibal scrubbed his fingertips vigorously through his hair, interlaced his fingers behind his neck and pulled his head low, stretching down until his torso almost rested on his thighs.

This position strained his pulmonary system stressing his breathing and causing an awkward strain to his normally smooth voice.

"I hope that is a rhetorical question, Clarice."

Her answer was soft, "I'm just voicing my concern."

His response derided the solicitude as he rasped, "_How touching_."

She was taken aback by his sarcasm and paused, the acerbic response sparking an internal debate.

_Is he overwhelmed? Maybe depressed? I should've paid more attention to him. He just seemed so happy I didn't consider how intense this day's been. I'll need to handle this very carefully._

Disturbed by Hannibal's uncharacteristic posture, Clarice climbed across the bed, draped her arms around him and pulled at his shoulders hoping in some way to relax his body and cheer him.

She struggled physically with his resistance. "C'mon, H…Work with me."

Hannibal leaned forward and buried his face briefly in his hands. "To what end?"

"I don't want anything from you, H. Just to loosen you up a little, nothing dramatic."

Hannibal mumbled an incoherent complaint and straightened hesitantly as she pulled him against her body. This caused his spine to stretch and arch against her belly eliciting a deep, almost pained groan as she raised him upright.

_C'mon H…reach back for me…a kiss…a cuddle, something…anything. You know how much I want you. Show me you forgive me…want me, H._

As she was already prepared for bed she was unclothed and could very clearly feel tension in his muscles through his Italian silk shirt as she held him.

_Christ, his muscles feel like straps he's so tight._

The realization struck her, as she looked at their bedside clock, that Hannibal had been home less than twelve hours. In her mind his time in prison already seemed a lifetime ago. Clarice was just beginning to realize that the experience remained raw for her husband.

_I can't believe I was that inconsiderate and fucking blind to his needs. He's just so good at hiding how he feels…I didn't think…I didn't think._

A penitent approach seemed the only option that might bring him around.

Clarice rested her head between his shoulder blades, pressed her ear to his back and listened to him breathe as she confessed, "I'm so goddamned sorry, H…I was just screwing around trying to play with you a little and I didn't even consider that Bashandi would be back this early. I know that put you in a crazy position. Did he say anything? Did Mariyah see him?"

Hannibal's breaths were steady and measured. He answered directly, though there was none of his usual playfulness. No sweet and endearing flirtation. He simply answered her as he would a stranger.

"No, Mariyah has not a clue he overheard the conversation. As to what he said to me, he simply thanked me."

Clarice lifted her head and began to smooth her hands over the breadth of his back. "What did you say to him?"

Hannibal did not respond to her touching, instead, answering succinctly, "Not a thing. Words seemed superfluous at the time."

Clarice placed very tender kisses on her husband's back as she sought confirmation from Hannibal that he understood her motivation.

"H, you gotta know I didn't_ intend_ to put you in that position."

He rolled his shoulders to brush her back and deny her attempts to comfort.

"That matters not, as intention has little to do with outcome, Clarice."

Irritated that Hannibal would not allow her to touch him, Clarice began to seethe remembering Bashandi's comments to her. She wanted Hannibal to be as angry about it as she was. She wanted him to be upset with anyone but her.

"When he found out you were alone with Mariyah he insinuated you might be using her sexually because of my health issues. I almost slapped the skin off his face I was so goddamned angry."

Hannibal seemed genuinely unconcerned as Clarice recounted the perceived insult.

His voice was controlled and unemotional as he explained his thoughts.

"Clarice, Anwar Bashandi is not an American man he is a Middle Eastern man. Do you not think based on _his_ culture, that this situation might produce an extreme reaction? Keep in mind he had just discovered that his virginal teenage daughter was in a bedroom without a chaperone, with a man to which she is not related and who has a somewhat dubious past?"

Clarice hadn't considered the cultural implications to his response.

"Well…when you put it _that_ way."

"There _is_ no other way to put it. Not to mention the prime minister has been under a lot of stress. Do not forget he would not be here if not for my situation. I wouldn't hold anything he said against him as he has proven to be a powerful ally and an invaluable resource. I can certainly forgive him an off-handed comment, no matter how offensive it may have been to your overly sensitive and obviously delicate sensibilities."

"Overly sensitive and obviously delicate sensibilities? Fuck you, H!"

Hannibal's eyes momentarily flashed fire but cooled quickly, reverting to a stable state much like a red-hot branding iron plunged into cold water.

The anger gone, he responded dispassionately, "Fuck me, Clarice? Not likely."

"Jesus, H, I didn't say or _do_ anything! You're taking a harmless misunderstanding and driving it to an entirely new level. It isn't like I told the guy off. I was just pissed off is all."

"It is preferable to be pissed off than pissed on, wouldn't you say?"

Clarice reached again to hold Hannibal but instead of encouraging the contact, he slipped her hands from around his body, stood from the bed and began to remove his clothing. As he undressed, Clarice watched him move about. She was very hurt that he continued to ignore her presence and her obvious need of him.

Hurt by his inattention and seeming unwillingness to forgive, she rested on her side, and curled up with her pillows, drawing the blankets to her unsure of what to do.

Though she didn't expect a favorable response, she continued, "You're not going to talk to me?"

"I have been talking to you, Clarice, you just haven't liked what I've been saying."

"You haven't been talking to me you've been singeing me with insults and no, I haven't liked it…I haven't."

He took off each article of clothing and folded them neatly. When he was down to his boxers he spoke without turning to face his wife.

"You will, of course forgive me if that thought does not cause me to lose sleep. Now, if you'll excuse me, Clarice. You had the opportunity to shower after our interlude earlier. I was denied the opportunity and would like to wash the scent from me."

Clarice was distressed by his comment. "I don't like the way you just said that, H."

"And just how did I _say it_, Clarice?"

"You said it like you wanted to wash the memory of me from your body. It was hurtful and insensitive."

Hannibal spun quickly to face her, his eyes flashed with anger, "Insensitive? Really? How interesting for you to consider my need for a shower, hours after you yourself similarly bathed, as offensive, yet I am asked to ignore the fact that you foisted that young lady upon me knowing the intensity of her feelings and the awkward position those feelings would put me in."

Though Clarice knew she was in an indefensible position, she stood her ground, as there was no intended malice in her action. She was incredulous that her husband didn't recognize that fact. He was inordinately angry.

"Where's H? Where's my sweet, silly husband who would have laughed this off as being no more than an irritation? You know I would never hurt you intentionally. Why won't you forgive me?"

Hannibal headed for the bathroom. "I don't wish to discuss this further."

She was confused by his anger. He normally would have laughed off such a situation being that the young girl's angst was no match for his intelligence and intuition. She sought to encourage his acceptance.

"Come on, H! You know you would have had to deal with that sooner or later. Can you imagine trying to handle that situation through a series of phone calls or emails? God forbid that love struck girl took to the Internet and began posting her feelings. For Christ's sake how would you like to be the update on her Facebook relationship status? That would have been a lot worse than a few minutes of embarrassment."

He turned in the doorway before entering the bathroom. He seemed to have thought better of something. Hannibal slipped off his boxers, and walked across the bedroom to his wardrobe speaking as he attended to the afterthought.

"I do not recall saying I was embarrassed. It is certainly true that I would most likely have been forced to address the situation before she departed, it needn't have been tonight and it needn't have been in the presence of her father. What I _am _saying is that I would _no_t have chosen the young lady's _bedroom _as the forum for that particular discussion."

He opened the chest of drawers, sorted around and retrieved a pair of pajamas. Clarice, knowing she and Hannibal slept nude, became instantly concerned.

"H?"

"Yes?"

"Pajamas?"

"We have guests, Clarice."

"Not in_ here_ we don't. I'm not dressed."

"I'm sure you have your reasons. Still, it would be disrespectful to be unclothed should one of our guests knock on the bedroom door, wouldn't you agree?"

"They won't knock on the door. They have everything they need in their rooms. You're just trying to…"

"Trying to what, Clarice?"

"Never mind." She rolled over awkwardly and allowed him to leave her without protest.

He continued to the bathroom, took his shower and returned several minutes later neatly groomed with his wet hair slicked straight back from his forehead.

Hannibal climbed into bed and rolled onto his side away from his wife.

Clarice, already in bed, rolled toward him and seeing his back, poked him.

"We've been apart for three weeks, this is the first night we get to spend together and you are just going to roll over?"

"We had sex earlier, Clarice. I'm exhausted. Prison isn't conducive to my circadian rhythm. I need sleep."

"Okay, you need sleep…since when do you sleep with your back to me?"

"Clarice, please trust when I say that one needy female is about all I can stand for one night. Do attempt for a moment to take my needs into consideration. I am beyond spent and need sleep."

"What did you just say? Did you just call me needy?"

Hannibal didn't reply to her question. Instead, he punched his pillow several times with far more exertion than a simple adjustment to it would have dictated, stuffed it under his head and closed his eyes preparing to sleep.

Clarice was sitting up in bed staring incredulously at Hannibal. He could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head.

Clarice's eyes were hot with a blend of anger and recrimination. She touched his shoulder gently.

"H, I'm sorry…H?"

Hannibal forcefully pulled his shoulder back and tugged the covers high over his shoulder. He didn't speak and he didn't turn toward his visibly upset wife. Instead, he rested quietly, waiting.

Clarice reached for him again, this time she would not chance rejection by grabbing him but instead began smoothing her hand up and down his back over his pajamas. They were very high quality silk, soft to the touch so she continued for several minutes to caress him in this way hoping to bring him some measure of comfort. Soon, her husband's breathing slowed and deepened signaling to her he was sleeping.

_He went to sleep angry with me…he's never gone to sleep still angry with me…_

Feeling quite dejected and actually a little ashamed of her actions Clarice rolled over and began to wrestle sleep.

She did not feel the bed shift, nor did she hear Hannibal moving quietly around the bed over to her side. She did not perceive the whisper of fabric as he slowly slipped the pajamas over his limbs, divesting himself of the clothing.

Now as naked as his wife, Hannibal moved very low across the floor. The moment he arrived beside her he reached for a throw pillow placed on the chair not far from the bed. He tossed the pillow back onto his side of the bed. Clarice turned to the movement to check on him hoping a change of heart brought him back around.

The moment her back was turned, he leapt from the floor onto the bed and clasped his hand over her mouth to prevent the inevitable yelp of surprise. He landed, straddling her legs, with his body very carefully positioned just below the baby.

Initially, she struggled unaware of whether she should be afraid or relieved. She looked to his eyes, glowing in the darkness, a shimmer of delight at his conquest. He held his hand in place, dove toward her neck and began to nibble and suck at her throat. Slowly, as he moved his hand, she giggled in delight as she struggled to toss him to one side or the other in vain.

She could see his amusement and realized that he had never been angry at all. As retribution for the position she put him in, he had been playing her all along.

"You son of a b-"

Hannibal interrupted her obscenity. "I have told you before, Clarice, not to refer to my mother as a female dog."

He dove toward her neck and body, covering her flesh with his mouth as he clamped down on the soft flesh beneath her chin.

"H!" she called out louder than she intended. "What are you doing?"

"Are you sorry, Clarice?" he asked against her neck as he fixed his mouth and sucked hard raising several small welts.

Clarice was laughing almost uncontrollably, "I said I was sorry, God…stop! I said I was sorry."

Hannibal continued to bite and tease at her neck, alternately sneaking in several kisses between loving bites.

Still laughing he ceased his tickling nibbles along her neck and throat and began to trail kisses down her body over her belly and below.

Twisting and giggling, she questioned, "What are you going to do?"

"I would think that would be obvious by now, my Love, " he answered in his best dungeon hiss, "I'm going to make you _scream_ apologies!"

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	113. Chapter 113

**DESIRE**

Clarice pulled Hannibal close and spoke against his ear as if they were not alone in the room, "H, I _can't _scream apologies or anything else…_they'll hear us_!"

Unaffected by her concern, Hannibal busied himself with the pulse at her throat.

He covered the area with his mouth, pressed his tongue against the beating source and concentrated on the throbbing.

He used the rhythm of her pulse much like a metronome counting as he composed a fugue. Hannibal added an underlying theme from Bach's prelude and fugue in C major BWV 531 to more fully develop the necessary layer of counterpoint and lend the majestic quality he correctly believed would match his feelings for Clarice. Within his mind and in her arms, Hannibal Lecter was truly joyful.

The music Hannibal composed by the beat of her life's blood began to flood the halls of his memory palace soaring to the highest ceilings and filling the corners of his mind. He was quite pleased as thus far the exposition was, of course, nothing short of brilliant.

As he composed, he flooded each room with rich layers of color, deep hues of purple and crimson to lend an air of aristocracy to the expanses. Rooms he barely visited were now decorated with banners of fine silk adorning the walls rejoicing his memories, each so new and vital, calling out with exaltation:

_Love Lives Here _

Hannibal smiled.

The conversation with Clarice now running a parallel track with his composition, Hannibal's less than spontaneous retort was more an afterthought than a fully formed intention. He mumbled as his mouth was still placed firmly against her flesh, "I don't much care if they hear us. They are both adults."

The vibration of his voice against her throat caused her to giggle and knowing if he continued she would have difficulty controlling her laughter she pushed her palms against his shoulders to briefly to release him from her throat.

Though disappointed at the loss of his sanguinary metronome Hannibal continued to compose as he leaned over his wife. His hair, now beginning to dry, tumbled slightly across his forehead.

Clarice brushed back an errant lock of hair.

_I can see his boyhood._

Hannibal was such an intellectual powerhouse that he often seemed Clarice loved when her husband's hair was slightly disheveled as it humanized him. Somehow, his hair slicked back connected him to the dungeon in her mind. She wanted to see more of H, so, Clarice reached up with both hands and ran her fingers through his still slick hair, tousling it.

_I hope the baby looks exactly like him. I hope the baby__** is **__exactly like him. _

The thought caused her to smile. Thinking of their past together, suddenly she realized how to counter his apathetic response to her request for silence.

She continued to play with his hair as she spoke. Her voice was tender but in no way fawning. "So, H…you _really_ don't care if they hear us making love?"

Hannibal leaned on one forearm and began to do the same, curling a lock of her hair around his index finger as he spoke plainly.

"Not even remotely. Our enjoyment is my only concern."

"H, do you take pride in being an exceptional host?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, if our guests heard us, they would be uncomfortable and a good host_ never_ makes his guests uncomfortable because that would be rude and as you take pride both as a host and a gentleman you would never do _anything_ that would be considered rude."

A quick blink as he processed her comment caused Hannibal to shift his laser-like focus momentarily. He cocked his head briefly in consideration and without comment returned his attention to the round of her shoulder as he kissed and nibbled the slim sinews probing the striations with his tongue. All the while he was simultaneously composing and blissfully considering elegance of her musculature as the blood symphony played on.

Clarice understood he was not ignoring her, simply processing her comment and formulating a response. Her question to him was posed more to needle him a bit than to prompt an immediate answer.

She pursued, "I see the wheels turning, H. Your thoughts?"

He was at present enjoying the flank of her hip as it curved to cradle their child.

"A moment, please, my Love."

He often admired her body and was genuinely enthralled with so many aspects of her anatomy and physiology that it was not unusual for Hannibal to shift his thoughts to such things, though he rarely gave them voice. Clarice was uncomfortable with such intense scrutiny and too often shied from his admiration.

Considering her assessment of his pride as a gentleman Hannibal spoke offhandedly, "Oscar Wilde believed a gentleman to be one who is never _unintentionally _rude."

Again their past revisited Clarice as flashes within her memory caused her to smile.

She spoke her revelation with a the twinkle of mischief in her eyes, "Yes, but to you _all_ discourtesy is unspeakably ugly."

Hannibal nodded in amusement at her reference to their initial meeting.

"I am heartened you remember our first encounter so clearly that you're able to toss my own words back at me. Allow me to I say with a husband's pride that you have become all I saw within you that first day, Clarice."

"I'm not tossing them back at you, I'm merely recognizing and asserting that you take pride in your aristocratic and well-mannered upbringing."

"Under _normal_ circumstances that is true, but today was not a normal day and as such I must admit to feeling particularly selfish and as such I am finding it challenging to work up concern for anyone's comfort but my own. As I stated earlier, they are both adults."

Realizing on that point he had check and mate she was forced to digress rather than tip her king.

"It doesn't matter if they're both adults when the one who's_ barely_ an adult wants to bang you."

Surprised she pursued the point even after he had obviously countered her every move, Hannibal angled his head as he considered the unfamiliar reference.

"_Bang_ me? What an unattractive and singularly uninspired colloquialism."

Still seeking to deflect his thoughts Clarice directed her attention to his chin, reaching up to kiss it repeatedly as she spoke, "Hey, it isn't pretty… but it's true so… I think that means…we have to be quiet…really, really quiet."

Planking on his elbows he leaned in and whispered very low in her ear speaking so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her lobe. His voice was rough and rich, making no effort to mask his desire as he nibbled at her ear, tugging it with his teeth as he spoke.

"Sex is purely recreational, Clarice but making love is a celebration of_ all_ of one's senses and as such I refuse to place restrictions on that particular pleasure."

The contact ticklish, Clarice giggled and attempted to push him back.

"You can enjoy it without making _noise_."

"Yes, but my enjoyment will be limited if _you_ do not, therefore I will take it as a personal challenge to _discourage_ your silence."

Asserting his desire with a predatory lunge, Hannibal captured his wife's mouth and began to kiss her passionately. There was nothing of his usual patient seduction, his motivations obvious as he moved his hands boldly, immodestly down her body.

Now accustomed to his body language, Clarice altered her position to accommodate his movements by scooting her hips slightly to the side.

Hannibal grasped her shoulder and, as he moved from the upper position, scooped her within his embrace and very quickly swept her with him so they rested face to face, each of them on their sides. Hannibal maintained an embrace by keeping one hand beneath her body thus encircling her.

Clarice was amazed at the speed with which he moved.

"You know, you're pretty agile for a guy your age," she teased.

"Have your fun, my Love but know that I intend to test _your_ agility _thoroughly_."

With both hands he grasped the muscles where her buttocks joined her thigh gripping and releasing as he kneaded the flesh and pulled her as closely to him as their child allowed. Clarice was kissing his chest, allowing the curls to tickle her nose as she trailed her lips over his body.

Hannibal shifted his focus for a moment, looking back over his shoulder. Clarice, her head still lowered, did not notice his brief auditory and olfactory assessment. With the briefest of moments, he was with her once more.

His appetite only partially fulfilled earlier in the day, he buried his face along her neck, nuzzling as he spoke. His voice was hot with passion as he growled his need making no effort to lower his tone.

"Clarice, I've missed you terribly…the touch…the taste of you."

His wife moved her hips slowly, responding to his touch. She pulled at his shoulders bringing him close to her as she whispered, "I've missed you too, H…_all_ of you."

His face still fervently buried against her neck, she could feel his lips slowly draw away from her flesh.

_He's smiling...he's happy…_

Hannibal skimmed the pads of his fingertips across her neck and turning in, rubbed his thumb along his wife's collarbone. He stretched his fingers and spun the widened span of his hand, rotating it to gently grasp the rounded dome of her breast brushing his thumb across her nipple to watch it peak at his touch. He enjoyed the warmth of her flesh and lingered.

Extending his pleasure he lifted up onto an elbow to watch as the sensual expression of longing slowly bloomed with his touch. An airy sigh escaped his love the moment he cupped the heavy curve of her breast, weighty with nourishment.

Hannibal eagerly confessed, "I hunger for you, Clarice."

Understanding his desire, her acceptance was unabashed, "I'm yours H…you don't need permission…I'm all yours."

Her acceptance of his want so pure and so complete, his heart pounded in his chest, the cadence thumping out the full measure of his own yearning.

Holding the love of his life in his arms, Hannibal made no effort to quiet his heart.

Instead, he dipped his head low, watching intently the circling of his palm over the coral peak. Seeing her flesh taut with desire Hannibal further lowered his head and captured her with his lips, tasting of her breast.

Clarice expressed her feelings with a long, contented sigh as the warmth of fulfillment flooded her. She relaxed her body, now pliant as she nestled protectively in his arms. She had never felt so close to anyone. She had never wanted anyone. He brought out a side of her, a warm nurturing aspect of which she had previously been unaware.

_I am Care…he is Need. Together we're whole._

Clarice arched her back encouraging his intent. As her respirations slowed and deepened she drew out each breath as if it would extend his actions. He lapped gently at the pearled projection of flesh sticky with fluid. She groaned, a low carnal sound, much louder than anticipated as her husband asserted his want and fed unapologetically.

Hannibal's senses alerted and his predatory pride enhanced by his loving wife's sensual response, he was encouraged to latch more firmly to her breast. He glided a palm across her ribs and over the pleasing curve of her pregnancy and floated his hand over the growing child with the self-satisfaction of a sculptor praising his masterwork.

_We will meet soon, my son. My son._

Hannibal reflected on the features his child might have as he admired the roundness and the pleasant symmetry of her shape as well as the softness of her skin.

_I hope you take after your mother as your journey in life would be smoother should you possess her features. She has such lovely eyes. Mine would burden you, I fear._

The perinatal progression was more than just a little pleasing to him. Now obsessed with the pregnancy he released her breast and began to kiss the crown of her belly continuously smoothing his hand in circles enjoying the tactile experience as the baby kicked against his palm.

Suddenly, his head lifted and his nostrils flared as he quickly searched the air.

_Still there? _

He did not tell Clarice what he discovered. Instead he asked the question, "Did you lock the bedroom door, my Love."

"Of course I did…why?"

"Strictly a precautionary measure as I wouldn't want to entertain guests in this position."

"No worries, it's locked."

Satisfied that they wouldn't be interrupted without warning he shifted his thoughts to his wife. "There has never been a more lovely and captivating sight than you, my Love, carrying our child. You are a miracle, Clarice. You are _my miracle_."

Clarice rolled her eyes and spoke flippantly, "_Flatterer_."

Surprised by her tone he defended, "The way in which you spoke the word implies a degree of fawning or the pursuit of an ulterior motive that isn't appropriate."

She playfully smacked his backside, "You _are_ pursuing, H."

"Yes, but I am not relying on the compliment to achieve that end. No…it is a statement of fact. You are perfection in my eyes."

Content to accept the compliment she replied, "You're not so bad yourself, H."

Clarice could see that Hannibal was pleased as sparks of light flaring from his irises swirling down to the dark centers of his eyes.

"Shall I pursue you further?" he teased as he shifted his hips allowing him the freedom to slip his hand between her legs from behind.

Clarice inhaled several short quickened bursts as her husband slipped his hand over the crest of her bottom, reached through her thighs and gently brushed his fingertips across the soft curls at the joining.

Leaning closer, he reached with his hand, opened his fingers to part the curls and stroked her flesh very tenderly.

Hannibal's mouth again sought the pulse at her throat wanting to finish his composition. The soaring sounds, mixing with her orgasm would complete the musical thought.

He teased her flesh with his tongue feeling for the pulse. His lips elicited a tingling sensation that caused goose bumps to rise on her neck. This distracted Hannibal, adding a new track for his many trains of thought.

He assessed his wife's arousal and considered the speed and pressure of his movements in relation to her response. Concomitantly he composed his fugue as he considered the pilomotor reflex and it's evolutionary use as a defense mechanism.

As porcupines have a similar reflex, he mused at how efficient the ability was and how humorous humans would look, since the reflex was similar, if they had quills as well. Hannibal was fully entertained by his own whimsy while allowing a measure of his focus to remain with his wife, swirling his fingers over her slippery flesh.

Clarice's soft moans alerted him to remain in the moment and fully focus on her pleasure. As his touch progressed, her desire began to peak. She pulled his head down to her and clutched hungrily at his mouth.

The heat of his hand rubbing and slipping into her flesh caused her heart rate to climb steadily. Overwhelmed by the attention, Clarice inhaled deeply and held the breath as his hand continued to delve within, though careful not to penetrate.

She tensed, "H…"

He whispered against her throat, "Relax, Clarice…let me take care of you."

Hannibal took his time fondling her flesh; listening to her breathing slowly evolve from slow and steady to quick, shallow bursts, the rapidity matching her rhythm as she gripped his shoulder and slowly moved against his hand.

Slipping within the channel of her femininity Hannibal slowly caressed the flesh and assessed his progress by her scent, heavy in the air.

He took her breast once more, crescendo within the walls of his mind crashing within his ears, silenced the moment her orgasm took hold. She clutched at him.

Her chin dropped to her chest, hunched as she fought for each breath, "Oh, god…H…H!"

He left her breast for a brief moment, just long enough to encourage her to ecstasy.

"Give yourself to me."

Clarice's hips rocked with her husband's touch, her body trembling against his unrelenting hand. She gripped his arm, her neatly trimmed nails raking crimson trails along his skin as in his arms she was able to let fly her inhibitions.

Before allowing the heat of the moment to fully wash over her she reached down, took her husband in hand, and feeling he needed no further stimulation, pressed his body just slightly within her, no more than an inch or two.

Hannibal panicked and attempted to withdraw, "Clarice, no…the baby."

She grabbed his hips and braced them as she held him within, "Shhh, no deeper. It's okay…No deeper."

Quickly measuring within his mind the location of her cervix in relation to his limited entrance, he calmed and allowed the position.

"You cannot move, Clarice," he cautioned.

"I can move. You can't."

Clarice contracted and released her muscles compressing her body around his. Hannibal was thrilled with her ingenuity and too long without this level of contact, he gasped momentarily, then, allowed his head to drop back as he enjoyed the sensations.

His wife's most personal muscles gripped and released his arousal repeatedly sent him very quickly to the edges of his self-control and very soon his ragged breathing matched her own.

Knowing her end was a near as his, Hannibal's mouth tugged firmly at her breast sending a rolling shudder that rocked her small frame. As he enjoyed the throes of her passion he gave himself fully to his own enjoyment and approached his own release. Finally, he relinquished her breast so that he might enjoy the tension of her orgasm as it was slowly replaced by a satisfied smile. Hannibal then pulled her close, bit down gently on the sloping gentle curve where her neck and shoulder met, and surrendered to his own rapture.

Clarice warmed as his body spilled within her, holding him tenderly as his muscles twitched with the pulse of his release.

Suddenly he lifted his head and searched the air once more. "It seems our company has company, Clarice."

Mariyah stood in the hallway, with her ear and both palms pressed against the Lecter's bedroom door. Concentrating on the activities within the room, she didn't attend to the presence that had joined her in the hallway. Her heart skipped a beat as a hand fell on her shoulder and a voice chilled the air.

"Mariyah, please follow me. It seems we have much to discuss."

Bashandi turned and walked to his suite without attending to his daughter's movements. She would follow and she would hear all that he had to say.

Anwar Bashandi was disappointed in his daughter, she could see that, now, she would have to hear it as well.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	114. Chapter 114

**QUESTIONS**

Basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Clarice swirled her fingers through Hannibal's chest hairs. It grew thicker between his pectoral muscles and she often preoccupied herself playing with it. Slowly, some of his comments moments earlier came to her, raising some concern.

"H?"

Hannibal, eyes closed, had nothing but sleep on his mind. He blinked several times as if shaking any thought of rest from them.

"Yes, Clarice?"

She lifted her head from his chest so that she could see him as she questioned, "Why did you ask me if the bedroom door was locked?"

Hannibal opened his arms outward and stretched lazily as he spoke, "I told you why."

Clarice rose to an elbow, her eyebrows knitted together in thought_. Could I have missed it?_

"No…no, you didn't."

Hannibal reached for her shoulders to pull her down to his body but Clarice held a hand up and repeated, "No, you didn't tell me _a thing_."

Seeing that Clarice was preoccupied with something of which he had little or no interest, Hannibal rolled onto his left side. He spoke very plainly, clearly not worried about the outcome in the least.

"Yes, I very clearly stated that I wished to avoid having to entertain guests in our particular position. As we have only two guests in the home, the clear postulation would be that one or more could be found just outside the door. Do you really not remember my saying it was necessary as a precautionary measure?"

"Yes…but…I thought you were speaking hypothetically."

Hannibal, realizing that Clarice hadn't a clue, turned over and sat up to face her.

"Why would you think that? I was very clear."

Clearly horrified the realization of what must have happened dawned on her. _Oh my God, Mariyah?…Mariyah!_

Clarice was almost too upset to ask, "What are you telling me, H? Was there someone outside our door? Christ…was it Mariyah?"

"Yes, Mariyah was outside the door. In fact, I believe she was pressed against the door as the air pressure shifted in the room for a moment and her scent was very near."

Clarice stood from the bed and grabbed her robe, knotting it apprehensively as she began to pace beside the bed. It was more than obvious she was disturbed.

"Oh my God, H! How long?"

Hannibal scooted to the edge of the bed, not bothering to cover his nudity. He did note that Clarice had modestly pulled her robe up around her face.

He was clearly perplexed by his wife's reaction as he thought he had been quite direct.

"Not long before I asked about the lock," he considered, "perhaps five minutes prior to that time. I fail to see why you are so concerned? The door is extremely heavy and well insulated therefore, while I am certain she understood the nature of our activities, she wasn't privy to the acts themselves."

Clarice turned the rich terrycloth bundled in fists around her face covering her body self-consciously as if she had just discovered that her nakedness had been broadcast on the six o'clock news.

"Oh my God this is _so mortifying_… you should have told me."

Hannibal was unconcerned by the incident as modesty was not an issue for him, though he could see his wife was deeply affected.

"My apologies, my Love. I was under the impression I had."

_Oh, no…No! _Suddenly a chill ran up her spine as she recalled his later comment. Certain she already knew the answer, she forced herself to ask the question.

"And what did you mean when you said our company had company?"

Hannibal stood and walked to Clarice. He was running his fingertips along the sides of her arms up and down in an effort to soothe.

"You will not be pleased with my answer."

"No shit, Sherlock. I want to hear it anyway."

Hannibal gathered Clarice in his arms and pulled her against him.

"Anwar discovered Mariyah outside our door."

Clarice let her hands slip around his neck. She looked into his eyes, hers softening as he began to play with her hair.

"May I offer, my Love, Clarice, that it is no one's affair what we do in our own bedroom and that we need not apologize for loving one another."

"I don't mean to take it out on you, H. In your own way, I guess you did try to tell me, but I was, well, we were both a bit preoccupied."

He began bringing gentle handfuls of her hair to his face and burying his nose among the soft curls, inhaled deeply.

"To say the very least."

Clarice rested her head on his chest, her muffled angst vibrating against his bare skin.

"So she heard what she heard. You're right! We don't have to apologize for getting laid in our own bedroom! Christ! What the hell am I embarrassed about? I could give a damn less if they were sitting on the bed rail taking pictures."

Hannibal released the hair he had been so preoccupied with and took her face very gently in his hands. "Though expressed more directly than I might have chosen, those are my sentiments exactly, Clarice."

He kissed the top of her head and rocked her gently back and forth, his body hardening against hers.

Clarice, feeling his response slapped him playfully on the backside, "Hey, Romeo! One voyeuristic performance is enough for the evening. Your little buddy is on hiatus until our guests are over the Atlantic."

"_Little _buddy, Clarice?"

"Okay, your _not so little buddy_, but he's still on hold, got it?"

"Not while we still have guests, apparently," Hannibal spoke in a petulant tone.

Clarice reached over, grabbed Hannibal's robe, draped it over his shoulders, and, using the fabric to pull him closer, kissed him on the tip of his nose.

"Not while we still have guests _definitely, s_o you just put that thing away where it can't cause any more trouble tonight."

Hannibal surged forward and began nibbling playfully at her neck, "Oh, Clarice…with you, it's no trouble at all."

Clarice shrugged her shoulder and giggled as she gossiped, "So, Bashandi found her with her _nosey little ear_ pressed up against the door?"

"Yes, that would be my guess based on the evidence of my senses," Hannibal continued to nuzzle and nibble at her neck and throat, "might I say that your enjoyment of her predicament is a tad mercenary my Love, and I must tell you, I find that very, very, erotic."

"H, if I'm in the room you find a stiff wind erotic."

"If you are in the room, my Love, it isn't the wind you need worry about."

As he hadn't secured his robe, Hannibal's was falling open, so he reached over, loosened the plush belt of his wife's and opened hers as well. He pulled himself against her body and slipped his hands within, grasping her hips. Clarice allowed him the interlude for a moment until she realized the ramifications of Bashandi, an incredibly strict and protective father, finding his daughter in that compromising a position.

She spoke against his neck, "He really found her with her ear to our door? She must have had a freaking heart attack! Could you tell if he was pissed off?"

Hannibal continued to attend to his wife's body and his own desire, speaking as his hands searched her form, "Though his voice was very soft, his tone was direct. I fear our young friend has a bit of explaining to do. I hope her father does not undo all of the care I took to build her self-esteem. It would be disastrous if he were to berate her."

Clarice leaned away briefly, "Aw, now I feel bad. Maybe you should go out there. You could smooth things over a bit. Make sure she knows we're not upset."

Disappointed his enjoyment was interrupted, he took stalled his hands on her hips and sought her eyes, "I was under the impression you _were_ upset."

Clarice grabbed the hanging belt of his robe and pulled him in, "How could I stay upset? She's a sweet girl, even if she is crushing hard on you. You need to go bail her out just in case."

Hannibal nodded, "Yes, perhaps that would be best."

Hannibal released Clarice reluctantly, kissing her as he passed and walked to the bathroom. He took a quick shower, put on linen trousers, a loose fitting cashmere sweater and stuffed his feet quickly into a pair of Italian leather loafers. He offered his plans as he moved around the room.

"Clarice, I will be preparing a large breakfast. Our guests have a very long flight ahead of them and it is doubtful either will sleep now. Hopefully a meal will provide an adequate distraction and needed sustenance. If you would like to join us after a shower, I will make you a lovely omelet with fresh asparagus."

Clarice began pushing through her armoire for clothing, "I'd rather have scrambled eggs, home fries and bacon."

Hannibal opened the closet, removed a lovely casual maternity dress and held it up. Clarice nodded and waved him over. He spoke as he carried the hanger to her.

"I can scramble the eggs and provide the home fries, but I fear bacon would be an affront to our guests. No pork products. Would pain perdu suffice?"

"Pain per who?"

"French toast, my Love."

"Why didn't you just say that? Yeah, that's fine. I can't believe you expect me to sit across from a girl who just spent the better part of an hour listening to us making love and I don't even get bacon! Oh, boy do you owe me, H!"

"In more ways than I can recount or repay, Clarice."

**MARIAH**

Anwar Bashandi sat at the desk in the corner of the room. His daughter chose a chair by the window. It was the furthest point from his chosen seat. He wondered whether or not the distance was a conscious choice.

"Why were you listening at the Lecter's bedroom door, Mariyah?"

"I saw their light was on and I wanted to apologize to Clarice. They were talking so I was waiting for them to finish their conversation."

"Their _conversation? _ Surely they were doing more than _talking_ to one another. They are married and have been one without the other for weeks."

"I...I don't think so…I just heard voices. How would I know what they were doing on the other side of the door? It 's a big door and it was closed all the way."

"Did you not think it might be an invasion of their privacy? Perhaps they were making love?"

"I don't think so. They were talking. I could hear voices."

"People often talk when they are intimate, especially married people."

"I wasn't thinking about that…I just wanted to talk to Clarice. I thought Hannibal might have…"

"Hannibal? Not Doctor Lecter?"

"No…I would never call him Hannibal to his face. It would be rude and I wasn't listening to see if they were…_whatever._ I was just waiting for them to stop talking so I wouldn't be interrupting anything."

"Still, it is intrusive at the very least and quite unseemly. What is your preoccupation with this man? I understand he has been very kind to you and I owe him a debt that I will never be able to repay but he is…"

Mariyah was turning the fabric of her sweater, twisting the edges of the sleeves as she questioned, "What? He is what?"

"He is a very _unusual_ man…a _very_ unusual and very _married_ man."

Mariyah was skipping a foot back and forth along the floor, avoiding eye contact with her father.

"What do you mean he's unusual?"

Bashandi leaned forward attempting to get her attention, "Mariyah, he has killed many, many people."

Mariyah's eyes watered as she stared at the floor, "_Not anymore_."

Bashandi stood very quietly, lifted his chair and moved closer, not wanting to be overheard. He slid his chair so closely they were sitting knee to knee. Bashandi reached across to his daughter and took her hands in his. He spoke softly, mirroring the tone Hannibal used earlier in the day striving not to undo the progress his daughter was making.

"You are an intelligent young woman. Surely you recognize that he is still the _same man_. He has modified his behavior to suit his wife but that doesn't mean he has changed. He is as capable now, of any of the things he has ever done, as the day he committed each and every crime. He is combustible, Mariyah, he simply needs an appropriate accelerant. Are you in some way attracted to him? Romantically? Physically?"

"What? _Dad!" _Mariyah was mortified, and buried her face in her hands. "How can you_ ask_ me that?"

Again, the concerned father attempt to voice his displeasure with a measure of diplomacy, "I found you in the hallway, very late at night eavesdropping at his _bedroom_ door. I am concerned that this behavior is…unhealthy. I am concerned that this relationship is no longer in your best interest."

Mariyah was crying very softly, "He's my friend. He helps me…that's all."

"Still, you hoped it could be more."

Tears fell unabated, "No…not anymore. I'm sorry…I'm sorry I disappointed you.

Bashandi reached into his pocket and retrieved a crisp handkerchief, handing it to his daughter. "Please, wipe your eyes Mariyah. You misunderstand. It is not so much that I am disappointed. It is more that I am concerned for you."

Mariyah dabbed at her eyes with the fabric. "I really meant no disrespect."

"If you meant no disrespect you will apologize to the Lecter's, yes?"

"Yes, Father, I'll apologize."

There was a knock on the door. Mariyah looked to her father for permission to answer the door. He nodded.

A large smile emerged when she opened the door to find Hannibal. Bashandi stood immediately. Hannibal remained in the doorway.

"Hello, Mariyah. I saw the light on and hoped that you and your father might like to join Clarice and I in the kitchen for a late night breakfast?"

Mariyah turned to her father, eyes filled with expectation and hope.

"May we join Doctor and Mrs. Lecter?"

"Yes, we would be honored."

"Mr. Prime Minister, with your permission, Mariyah is an excellent cook, I would be more than happy to have her assist in the preparations."

Mariyah turned to her father, again, eyes pleading and hopeful.

"Doctor Lecter, it is kind of you to offer. I am certain you have much better things to do with your time than to bother yourself with my daughter in your kitchen."

"It is no bother, Sir, I assure you. I am not the type of man who would extend such an offer out of obligation or courtesy. She is quite accomplished and would be no trouble to me at all. Quite the opposite in fact and I would enjoy spending time with her before your departure. You may of course supervise if you wish."

"That is not necessary, Doctor Lecter. You have proven yourself to be trustworthy. I wouldn't insult you by requiring a chaperone for meal preparation."

"Thank you for your confidence." Hannibal turned to Mariyah, "Why don't you head down to the kitchen and begin assembling ingredients for our breakfast."

"What will we be having?"

"The standard breakfast fare. Why don't you inventory the contents of the refrigerator, find some fresh fruit and begin a compote?"

"Yes…yes of course. This is so exciting!"

Mariyah slipped past Hannibal and quickly left the men alone in the room. Hannibal still framing the door, fully faced the prime minister.

"She is a lovely young lady."

"Thank you for saying so. Doctor Lecter, this may seem off topic, but believe me I do have reason, may I ask you a very personal question?"

Hannibal stood with his hands clasped directly in front of him. His tone was very formal, "You may ask anything of me, Sir."

Bashandi proceeded with the trepidation of a man approaching a cornered animal. _You seem tame, but I can see the fire in your eyes._

"Even if the question is offensive?"

Hannibal could smell the fear leeching from Bashandi's pores and understood immediately the nature of the question.

_There is only one question that would cause a man of this stature to fear me. He wants to know what we were doing behind the closed door. He needs to know what his daughter heard. Let me see how far you are willing to take this…are you brave enough to ask?_

"If you have _need_ of the answer, my friend, I assure you I will not be offended by the question."

Anwar Bashandi took a deep breath and stammered the query, "Were…were you and your…wife…intimate tonight?"

Hannibal looked directly at the man without any sign of emotion.

Bashandi's heart began to pound as he waited for either a response, or a blade between the ribs for the insult. Hannibal's deadpan and unblinking stare, with the eerily darkened center, reminded Bashandi of a shark.

Hannibal paused just long enough to allow beads of sweat to form on the brow of the prime minister. He countered in a deadly calm voice, "Are you asking me whether or not my wife and I had sexual relations tonight?"

"Yes, forgive me, that is exactly what I am asking, though with good reason."

"Why may I ask do you require that information? You are not still concerned that I might have sexual intentions toward your daughter in my wife's stead? If so, I assure you my physical relationship with Clarice, even with her current medical challenges, leaves me _more_ than satisfied. I have _absolutely_ no desire for _any_ other woman, much less your a_dolescent _daughter."

"Ah, it would seem your wife shared with you my earlier comment."

"Would it surprise you to find that she and I share everything?"

"On some level, yes, it does. Allow me to apologize for any offense both for that comment and my impertinent question. I only ask because my daughter was listening outside your door and I fear she may have heard your interaction with your wife. I believe she is quite smitten with you."

"To answer your question, yes. My wife and I were indeed quite intimate, though you have nothing to fear. If she was in fact listening she heard very little. My wife and I are not particularly vocal therefore your daughter may have surmised the activity, but would not be privy to anything _specific. _As for her interest in me, I assure you, it will pass._"_

Bashandi pursued, "She may have been there for quite some time. She could have heard everything."

"You should not be concerned by what she might have heard as any conversation would have been romantic in nature."

Bashandi took two steps back before asking the next question.

"I only ask because your reputation in that area precedes you and causes me concern."

Hannibal very slowly closed the distance between them, stepping into the room and closing the door. Bashandi's heart beat against his sternum as if wanting to escape from his chest. Hannibal could almost hear the blood rushing in and out of the chambers, the man's heart was so stressed.

Drinking of the man's discomfort for a moment, Hannibal paused, then responded, "You may have knowledge of my sexual history as it has been very publicly documented by several unscrupulous females, but that was long before Clarice. My wife is quite reserved and I would not disrespect her, nor do I have any desire to use her in that way. Rest assured, our sex life is very natural and very loving. Know that I am only sharing this with you out of respect and to address your concern for your daughter. Please know that I would not have shared this information with any other man, for any other reason, as my wife is entitled to the privacy of our marital bed."

"Yes. I fear I insulted her earlier. My remark when I found you were alone with my daughter was beyond the pale. I ask your forgiveness."

Hannibal reached for the door and opened it. He smiled inwardly as he heard the very long exhalation of relief from Bashandi as the lid of his coffin had been opened.

"There is no need. Still, you may want to set my wife's mind at ease. She loves me very much and though she does not complain, I am painfully aware that she very often pays the price for my past. I love her more than is my ability to express and would spare her if it were in my power but I cannot turn back the years nor can I give back the lives I have taken. I can only strive now to be a man that is, in some way, worthy of her love."

"I should like to ask her forgiveness if you allow me to escort her to the kitchen in your stead?"

"I am certain that would please my wife very much, Mr. Prime Minister."

"We have, over these last several months, been through quite a lot together. I should consider it an honor for you to truly accept my friendship by addressing me, not by my title, but by my given name, Anwar."

Hannibal extended his hand, "Thank you, Anwar. Please do me the same honor and call me Hannibal."

"Hannibal…Thank you."

Hannibal nodded, "If you'll excuse me, I will inform Clarice. She was about to shower when I left the room. I'm certain she will not be long."

Hannibal walked quickly down the hall and opened the door to the master suite. Clarice was reaching back awkwardly over her shoulder for her zipper. Hannibal quickly rushed to her, moved behind her and slowly, placing kisses the length of her spine, followed his mouth with the interlocking teeth of the zipper.

"Thanks, H. What's going on out there?"

"The prime minister is waiting to escort you. He would like to apologize for his earlier remarks."

"Oh, come on…_really_?" she whispered, "I really don't feel like dealing with this."

"You have only to accept his apology gracefully."

"After what he said, I'd rather grace him with my foot up his ass!"

"Kinky, my Love…very kinky."

Hannibal took his wife in his arms and whispered in her ear, "Tomorrow night will begin our lives anew, my Love. I promise you, Clarice, that we no longer have a worry in the world. We need only prepare for the arrival of our son."

Clarice kissed her husband, her heart soaring with joy as she held him close, not realizing that only_ half_ of his promise to her would come true.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	115. Chapter 115

**THE BEGINNING OF THE END**

Clarice opened the door to the master suite and stepped out into the hallway to be greeted by Bashandi.

"Hello, Mrs. Lecter."

Clarice cringed. _Do I really have to deal with this crap now?_

She fixed on her best smile, "Hello, Mr. Prime Minister, to what do I owe this honor?"

He walked alongside her speaking quietly as they walked the long hallway toward the stairs.

"Would you mind if we were to have a brief conversation before joining your husband and my daughter? I feel the need to explain myself."

Clarice, realizing the conversation was now unavoidable needed to find the appropriate venue for what she was certain would be an exceedingly awkward exchange.

_Christ! Where am I going to do this? There's no way I'm taking him into my bedroom to discuss my freaking sex life. I need neutral territory, something decidedly non-sexual. No bedrooms. _

She very quickly passed the bedrooms, including the baby's and began to descend the stairs. Her mind flew through the home assessing and rejecting each room one by one.

_The family room is far too close to the dining room. The formal living room is not much better. It needs to be far enough away from Hannibal and Mariyah…_

She finally had it and questioned confidently, "Would you feel comfortable in my husband's study? I'm sure Hannibal wouldn't mind if we used it."

Bashandi, hands clasped behind his back as he walked, considered the option and nodded, "Yes, that would be fine, thank you."

Clarice led the way to the study pointing out several pieces of artwork from Hannibal's collection along the way. She probably would have shown him just about anything to lessen the stress of the long walk through the home.

_Jesus, save me now because I've had about enough of this! I want H to myself._

The pair arrived at the study, Clarice deferring to the prime minister by gesturing for him to take a seat at Hannibal's desk.

"Please, make yourself at home. Hannibal would insist."

Bashandi moved with authority to the seat and settled comfortably in the large leather desk chair. He gripped the arms and bounced slightly on the seat as if assessing the chair for his own purposes. He was obviously comfortable as he folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. He exuded confidence.

"Thank you so much. I must say that you and your husband have been gracious hosts. I fear my daughter and I have been less than exceptional guests."

Clarice sat on the armchair across from the desk. Her tone was formal but friendly as she moved uncomfortably on the seat. The baby was shifting and settled very low, causing a good deal of discomfort. Though she was in pain, she masked the twinges with a pleasant tone.

"You came half-way around the world to help us. There is no way we can ever thank you. I would call that exceptional."

The tenor of Bashandi's voice assumed a serious tone, "My daughter and I both owe you an apology. Please allow me to be the first to offer mine. "

Growing more uncomfortable by the minute, Clarice was beginning to lose her patience. "Really, Sir, it isn't necessary."

With an air of penitence that was uncharacteristic for the proud man he countered, "It is more than necessary. My comment to you earlier about Hannibal was uncalled for. Though it does not excuse the insult by any means, I must honestly admit to a bit of trepidation in his presence. My irrational fear of the man has caused me to behave in a manner of which I am ashamed."

Clarice was astonished by the admission. The first time they interacted, during the proceedings leading to Hannibal's pardon, he was very comfortable. This seemed contradictory.

"Why would you fear Hannibal? Hasn't he been gracious and friendly? Hasn't he been kind to your daughter?"

Bashandi conceded, "He has been more than gracious and though I cannot help how I feel I am embarrassed by those feelings."

Clarice slipped her hands beneath her belly, heavy from the position of the baby and supported the weight. She was distracted not only by her own personal discomfort, but too, the discomforting knowledge that Bashandi was admittedly, though without explanation, terrified of Hannibal.

"I don't think you should be embarrassed but I'm really curious why you feel that way after all Hannibal's done for your daughter. Not to mention, the last time you were in the States, you seemed very at ease with him. And if you're really afraid of him, why did you come here to help us."

Bashandi leaned back in the chair, preoccupied for a moment as he contemplated the question and responded in detail, "I owe your husband a debt that I will never be able to fully repay. Stuart Miggs would have defiled Mariyah and murdered her without a thought. If not for your husband's intervention, I would not have my daughter. He sacrificed everything. The offer to commute his sentence could have been a ruse. Still, he came. All I had to do was get on a plane and argue with the president. There was no personal risk to me. Your husband risked his life with you and his child. I will never forget that."

Clarice moved, attempting to find a comfortable position, to no avail.

"Forgive me for being blunt and for beating a dead horse, but if you're afraid of him, why the_ hell_ did you agree to_ stay_ with us?"

Recognizing the dichotomy Bashandi defended, "Mariyah felt safer here. I believed it important that she feel comfortable and when I agreed to it, I_ wasn't_ afraid of him. I knew he had_ killed_ but wasn't familiar with the details of his case. Until the briefing by my security team while on the flight here I was unfamiliar with the, forgive _my_ bluntness, _utter_ _savagery_ of your husband's crimes. They showed me photos that I cannot purge from my mind and I find it hard to believe a man capable of those things can just stop doing them. He seems so sane, and yet…"

Clarice could feel her blood boil as the pain she was in, combined with the indirect insult to her husband within the poorly framed apology angered her.

"Maybe it's easier to be afraid of him than it is to consider that his so-called crimes were a choice and not insanity or some primal urge. I guess to most people that might be a scarier prospect. To consider that he might have felt perfectly justified in his actions. Whether savage or not, what difference does that make? It wouldn't make them any less dead had he chosen different methods. He methods were very deliberate as he turned each of their inadequacies against them."

"There is truth to that and I do see by his behavior that he is making every effort, but, Instinct cannot be changed. In my mind your husband is reminiscent of a panther or a lion. Both animals have a very elegant and almost regal bearing and much like your husband, are absolutely lethal when threatened. They cannot change the programming of their instincts. Even when seemingly tame, their nature remains unaltered."

"He's been threatened recently. He was kidnapped and endured days of torture, he did all he could not to kill."

"Yet, still, he killed."

Clarice, feeling hemmed in and unable to find a comfortable position, stood behind her chair and leaned heavily on the back.

"He only killed those who would have killed him. What would you have done to Miggs if he hurt Mariyah?"

Pointing his finger at the desk he tapped it repeatedly, "There are laws in place for such things. I would _have_ him killed. I would not do it _myself_."

Clarice was unabashed in her response, "Well, that's where we are different because I'd kill anyone who tried to harm my family and I wouldn't be delicate about it either."

Surveying her he replied with a hint of admiration, "You are an unusual woman."

Growing agitated Clarice answered, "Maybe I am because, to be perfectly up front and honest with you, I don't care how many people he kills if they threaten him. My H understands it has to be justifiable and he must be defending himself but he can do _whatever he has to do_ to come home to me. Contrary to popular belief he isn't a wanton murderer and laws don't always defend the innocent."

"Yes, I do see your point and of all I have read recently of Hannibal's crimes, he never killed innocent individuals, he killed rude or offensive people. Knowing how rude my behavior and the behavior of my daughter has been, I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind as I spoke with him moments ago. Though I fully admit it was an untenable situation, I was absolutely terrified."

Clarice dismissed the comment with an undertone of recrimination, "You may have been offensive, but you posed no physical threat so you were never in any danger."

Defending his emotions he fortified his position, "I may not have been in actual peril but I could definitely sense a deeply-seated urge as he stepped toward me that made my blood run cold. Again, like that of the lion, there is a predator glowering just behind his eyes. His instinct, that part of him he cannot change, wanted to rip me apart."

"There isn't any predator glowering. You just don't understand how the light plays within his irises. His eyes are really unusual and it causes them to appear as if they glow in low light. It can be frightening if you are used to it and trust me when I say you're in more danger of me ripping you apart than Hannibal. He wasn't even upset when I told him what you said. I was the one who was enraged. I respond emotionally where he doesn't. It may be hard to understand but even though Hannibal's instincts are much more refined and developed than ours, he isn't driven by those instincts. They are merely tools at his disposal. His mind is so developed and so much more evolved that his intellect reigns."

"If, indeed, his intellect reigns, I suspect that is by choice. He could easily choose to let Instinct reign. You are a brave woman for choosing to love him."

Exhausted by the events of the last twenty-four hours Clarice returned to her seat, holding her belly to support the burdensome shift in the baby's weight.

"I didn't _choose _to love him. I didn't _want_ to love him. I did e_verything_ I could _not_ to love him but he haunted my soul. I spent years running from those feelings until I finally couldn't run from it, from him any longer. He's a really compelling and extraordinary man and I'm the luckiest woman alive to have initially interested him and to have finally earned his limitless and unconditional love."

Bashandi's cheeks flushed with shame.

"I am left to reflect on my own limitations as I have been unable to receive his friendship without feeling some level of suspicion, undeserved though I know it is. The inadequacy is mine as Hannibal has been more than accommodating and has offered alliance without reservation or prerequisite. I am ashamed that I have not reciprocated unconditionally."

Clarice brushed aside the concern, "You shouldn't worry about that. Hannibal has an extraordinary tolerance for those who have concerns about his past. On some level he believes because of his past the additional scrutiny is justified. Whether or not his past warrants the treatment it offends me because, well, to be really honest with you, I'm no where near as charitable as he."

Bashandi measured Clarice thoughtfully and replied, "Yes. I can see that. You might possibly be the only thing your husband is capable of fearing."

Clarice laughed, "Funny you should say that. It's exactly what Hannibal says."

"Yes. I definitely see why he is so taken with you. Though you seem demure on the surface you actually have a quite a forceful presence, Mrs. Lecter. You also hold sway over a man that has never accepted the governance of anyone or anything. You have given rules to that which cannot be ruled. If Hannibal Lecter is capable of being tamed, you are the only woman equal to that task and that is impressive…extremely impressive. Allow me to add that my daughter has shown wisdom beyond her years in choosing you as a role model."

"That's kind of you to say, Mr. Prime Minister."

"Please, if you are willing to accept my apology, you must also be willing to address me as Anwar. And, if you are not offended, I will call you Clarice."

"I'd like that."

"Would you care to escort me to breakfast, Clarice? Let us see what manner of trouble Hannibal and Mariyah are stirring up."

Clarice stood very slowly. The time for the birth was growing near. She needed her husband and she needed him alone.

**HANNIBAL AND MARIYAH**

Hannibal and Mariyah were cooking elbow to elbow with Mariyah beaming as she followed every direction he spoke the moment the words left his mouth. She chopped and diced and minced ingredients as he simultaneously tossed omelets and hash browns in separate pans.

"I have to apologize to you, Doctor Lecter. I did something I shouldn't have, but I didn't mean anything by it, really. I am really, really sorry."

"To what are you referring?"

"I was outside your door for a while tonight. My dad saw me listening at your bedroom door and he thought I was listening to you…"

"To me? Specifically?"

"To you and Clarice…"

Hannibal began heating an additional pan. Though Mariyah was serious, he was attending to the meal and was not placing importance on the conversation. This was meant not to dismiss her concerns but to limit her embarrassment.

He questioned in an undaunted manner, "Are you referring to listening in as my wife and I made love this evening?"

Mariyah began to "Well, that's what my father thought I was doing but actually I just wanted to talk to Clarice. I thought you might have told her what I said to you. I figured I would need to explain myself."

Hannibal flipped his wrist repeatedly tossing the vegetables in the air to shift their position in the pan. He continued to question without showing upset.

"If that were the case why wouldn't you knock on the door?"

Mariyah lowered her head and attempted to appear very concerned with the French toast she was lowering onto the heated griddle.

"Because I could hear voices and I thought it would be more polite to wait until you were finished talking so I wouldn't be disturbing you both."

Again, Hannibal attended to the meal as he inquired, "Listening at the door is more polite than knocking? Did you honestly believe that at the time or are you ashamed to state that you were you simply curious?"

Baffled by the fact that Hannibal seemed unconcerned, Mariyah became less anxious and truly began to consider her motivations.

"At that time, in my mind I was being polite, but I think now, I don't know. It's not that I wanted to invade your _privacy_. I'm actually not really positive _what_ I was thinking. I heard you both and I just…_stayed_."

Unconcerned, Hannibal began to shift the contents of his pans into larger serving vessels.

"Perhaps you were wondering what it would be like to be on the other side of the door. It may be that you were imagining what it might sound like…what it might feel like if it were you in my arms instead of Clarice?"

Mariyah, embarrassed by her own desires protested, "Oh my god, no…no…"

Hannibal continued his relentless yet delicate interrogation of the young girl. He set down the sauté pan and faced her, gripping her shoulders very gently and seeking her eyes as he pursued, "Is that righteous indignation meant to convince me? It does not. Or perhaps, you believe that if you are vehement in your denial you may convince yourself? Asserting your astonishment at my suggestion does not make the statement any less true. Why I wonder are you afraid to admit want or desire? Have you been honest with yourself?'"

"Honest with myself?"

"Yes, honest with yourself. Though I suppose it is possible that you are not aware of exactly why you remained, I sincerely doubt it. I believe you are intelligent and intuitive and though you are not experienced in such things, like all who live, who have ever lived, you have certain thoughts, yearnings. We all have needs. You are no different from anyone else. You are curious because you long for that which you have not experienced. That is natural. The fact that your father discovered your curiosity, your want, disturbs you, embarrasses you even, yes? Though it is not something of which you need be ashamed. There is no more natural thing in this world."

The intensity of the conversation began to overwhelm Mariyah. Hannibal released her when he saw her eyes begin to spill over. She wiped them self-consciously with the back of her hand.

"Well, of course I'm ashamed…it's not normal to want someone who's married. It's not normal to want someone who's older than your own father. It's not natural…it's just not."

Hannibal put his arms around the young lady and held her very gently.

"But it _is normal_ Mariyah. We cannot choose whom our body responds to. Know that you will have such feelings for many men. It is up to you to assess which one of these men will be an acceptable spouse with which to travel the path of life. You are an attractive and desirable young lady and though I am not the man you will eventually marry, I am tremendously complimented by your affection. You have no need to be ashamed of your curiosity and there is no need to apologize either to myself or to Clarice."

Mariyah looked up at him, "You don't think I should talk to her about it?"

Hannibal lifted her chin, "Do you want to?"

"No, it's mortifying enough talking to you about it. I don't want to tell her I find her husband attractive. It sounds so babyish now when I say it out loud that I want to crawl in a hole and die."

He released her from his embrace. She turned and leaned on the counter. Hannibal placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. He could feel the tension in her muscles begin to release as she considered the thought that she might not have to face Clarice.

Hannibal confirmed," Then there is no need to speak of it again. Clarice and I have discussed it. She is not offended and is more worried about you than anything else. Do you have any questions? Did you hear anything that may have unsettled you or upset you in any way?"

Mariyah's voice dropped, the depression obvious, "No, I don't have any questions. You love Clarice. You don't love me. _I get it."_

Hannibal squeezed her shoulder, "Mariyah, you are very important to me. Please don't be hurt by this. I am your friend and will continue to be your friend and I do love you. That has not changed. I hope you will continue to love me and to value my friendship as well."

"No…it won't change. I'll always feel the same way about you. It doesn't matter that you don't feel the same. I don't know though. Maybe I should say something to Clarice?"

"She is dealing with your father now. Trust me when I say, for my wife, that's enough for one night. I have learned with Clarice that it is usually best to leave well enough alone."

"As long as you don't think I need to, I won't."

The moment Mariyah finished her sentence, Hannibal sensed the pairs approach, "They are leaving my study and heading down the hallway as we speak."

"How do you know that? I can't hear them."

"I can smell them."

"That is _so _cool."

"Indeed."

Hannibal and Mariyah lifted the dishes and moved the food to the dining room.

Bashandi was holding Clarice's chair as Mariyah and Hannibal entered the dining room.

Hannibal's eyes shifted to Bashandi causing the prime minister to pause.

"Hannibal, would you mind if I helped Clarice with her chair? I see that your arms are quite full."

Hannibal began to place the bowls on the table. "Not at all, Anwar. I would appreciate the assistance, thank you."

Relieved, the prime minister seated Clarice and took his own place at the table.

Once all of the food was carried out from the kitchen, Hannibal seated Mariyah and began to pass the bowls of food around the table allowing each person to take what food they preferred. A dark rich, Egyptian coffee was brewed and Hannibal poured for each person, save Clarice. Her eyes rolled as he gave her a cup of herbal tea.

"Is this freaking chamomile again?"

"Perhaps you would prefer milk?"

"No, I'll stick with the chamomile, thanks."

Bashandi made awkward conversation as he attempted to lead his daughter to the apology. Hannibal followed his train of thought and derailed it.

"I was discussing with Mariyah the fact that she need not apologize for her behavior this evening. Clarice and I discussed it briefly and we agreed it was harmless. Her apology to me has been well received and heartily accepted by myself and by extension, Clarice as well."

Bashandi lowered his voice as he addressed his daughter.

"You have apologized to Doctor Lecter, Mariyah?"

She lowered her eyes.

"Yes, Father. I have."

Bashandi questioned, "We need speak no further on the subject?"

Clarice chimed in, "Please, let's not dwell on it. It's over and done with. No harm, no foul."

Clarice still felt bloated and uncomfortable and was additionally offended that Bashandi was still afraid of Hannibal. She was even more offended that he continued to harp on the situation with Mariyah. It wasn't that he was being rude. It was more that she was feeling hormonal and wanted to be alone with her husband.

_I wish I screamed out each orgasm so loud it shook the rafters. Hannibal wouldn't have cared and that would've given you something to think about on the flight back home to your ass-old wife! Pompous prick talking about my husband like some sort of animal…he is an animal- in bed, you limp-dick-wishing-you-were-half-the-man-my-husband-is-son-of-a-bitch._

Without missing a beat, Clarice fixed on her best hostess smile and lifted the coffee pot. "Would you like me to warm your coffee, Anwar?"

"Thank you, Clarice. That's very thoughtful of you." He extended his cup and she poured very primly setting the pot down when his cup was filled.

_I hope you choke on it._

She didn't speak her emotions, instead continued genially, "Not at all, it's my pleasure."

Hannibal caught Clarice's eye as she set down the pot and winked at her.

_You would much rather bash the side of his head in with that steaming pot wouldn't you my Love? _

Taking advantage of the pause in conversation Hannibal stood, "If you will excuse me, I forgot an additional item for my wife. She is pregnant and craves certain foods. As her husband it is not my habit to deny her, therefore you will please forgive my indulgence."

He excused himself and returned moments later with a small covered dish, placed it in front of Clarice and lifted the lid with a flourish. Clarice gasped as the movement of the cover caused a burst of steam to rise and twist toward her face infiltrating her nostrils.

"Bacon!"

"Indeed. Prepared separately from the meal. Mariyah assured me if kept segregated from the rest of the food, it would not offend."

Hannibal proudly placed two forkfuls of crispy bacon on his wife's plate and kissed the top of her head.

"Know there is not a thing I would ever deny you."

Clarice expressed her first genuine smile since their time in bed together.

"Thanks, H."

"For you my Love, anything."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, H."

"I would expect no less, Clarice."

**GOING HOME**

No more than two hours later the driver rang the bell. Hannibal opened the door as Mariyah hugged Clarice goodbye.

"You've got our numbers and you've got our email addresses. Promise when the baby is born you'll come visit again?"

"I do…I promise."

The driver entered the home with several members of the security team and gathered the luggage. They moved quickly and were in and out in moments. Bashandi approached Hannibal and extended his hand.

"Hannibal, my friend. Hopefully if we meet again, the circumstances will be better."

"Yes, thank you, Anwar. I will not soon forget your help."

"And I will never forget yours, my friend."

Bashandi bowed to Clarice. "Goodbye, Clarice. It has been, enlightening."

Clarice smiled, "Have a safe trip home. Thank you so much for everything."

"Not at all." He turned to Mariyah. "I will wait for you in the car."

She nodded.

Clarice excused herself as well, "Forgive me. I'm exhausted, I'll be in bed, H."

"I'll be along presently Clarice."

Clarice ascended the stairs with a smile. Hannibal would be hers for the first time in more than three weeks. She would wait in their bed.

Mariyah stood across from Hannibal unsure of what to do. Hannibal extended his arms opening them wide and leaving no doubt that an embrace would be welcome. Mariyah flew into his arms.

"I'm going to miss you, Doctor Lecter."

"I shall miss you as well, Mariyah but we shall see each other again."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

Mariyah wrapped her arms around Hannibal's neck. He kissed both of her cheeks before releasing her.

"I'm going to leave now before I start to cry." She pulled away and moved quickly to the door of the car, pausing briefly to wave.

Hannibal waited at the front door and waved as the car carrying father and daughter drove away.

He then locked the door, activated the security system, climbed the stairs to join his wife and entered the bedroom to find her sound asleep. Hannibal undressed and slipped between the sheets snuggling up to his wife. Moments later he too was asleep. Clarice and Hannibal spent the rest of the day sleeping comfortably in each other's arms.

They were alone and resting in each other's arms with no way of knowing how quickly the quiet refuge of their home would be supplanted by anxiety and dread.

Clarice would soon be in jeopardy and for the first time since his childhood, Hannibal would be forced to suffer through the pain of a family member, powerless to help.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH **


	116. Chapter 116

**WHEN FINALLY WE PART**

As the sun road low in the sky casting a warm golden glow across their bed, Clarice's hunger sounded the alarm and she began to wake.

Hannibal was sound asleep nestled against her body with his face tucked beneath her hair, his cheek warming the flesh between her shoulder blades. Finally home alone with his wife and fully relaxed he was breathing so deeply the exhalations tickled Clarice's neck.

Shrugging her shoulders against the whispers of heated breath rippling across her skin the loving wife reached back to lightly rub her sleeping husband's thigh, tucked protectively behind hers.

"H…wake up, H…"

In response to her touch and the soothing sound of her voice, Hannibal shifted his body just slightly and moved to pull his lover against him. He snuggled close, his deep voice buzzing low purring pleasure in her ear, "Mmmmm."

No words. None needed. The low rumbling hum of his vocal chords reverberating his lush baritone voiced his comfort. This sensual sound of her husband's complete contentment warmed her heart and prompted an urge she knew could not be safely addressed. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, but that would have to wait.

_He's perfect…our life together is perfect._

Clarice rustled the soft hairs as she brushed her hand up and down the length of the muscular arm encircling her. Hannibal's strong hands broadly spanned protectively holding her belly.

_Why did I wait so long? We could have had so many more years. _

She pushed the negativity aside. "H…Hey, H…I'm hungry."

Hannibal stretched against her body as he growled his annoyance at being disturbed. The moment Clarice paused, he quieted and it became obvious by Hannibal's immediate inactivity that he was perfectly content to sleep.

She patted him again, smoothing her hand up and down the strong sinews of his thigh. Distracted by his body, lean and wiry as her own, she occasionally gripped and massaged the muscles of his strong leg fueling her desire and sending surges of electricity radiating along her nerve endings.

She burned for him and she knew that he knew it. If it were any other man the knowledge would have illustrated weakness; exposed her, given away power she would have found distasteful. Disturbing even, not so with this man.

The knowledge that Hannibal understood her need, was not relinquished power. It was safety. It was comfort.

For Hannibal's part, with any other woman he might have thought it an advantage but not Clarice…_his Clarice_. He was as lost with desire as she. More so, the power was hers as he surrendered to her willingly, wholly and absolutely.

Even her name on his lips bared his utter adoration, "Clarice…my Love."

Hannibal's hands left her belly and moved to her hips as he pressed his growing length against her and rocked his body, guiding hers in unison.

Clarice, absorbed by the interlude followed his lead allowing her hips to sway with his. Lost in the moment she moaned very softly as her husband searched her body and whispered his need in her ear.

"Let me please you."

She resisted, stilling her body and giving him pause.

Get_ a handle on it Clarice or we won't be getting up anytime soon._

_"_Clarice?_"_

"H…I want to say yes, more than anything, I want to say yes, but it's late. We have to get up or we'll never sleep tonight. We have to eat."

"Man does not live by bread alone, Clarice."

"Yeah, well pregnant women need a lot more than bread."

Hannibal dragged his nose along her neck and inhaled deeply, obviously using the changes in her scent to assess her obvious arousal. He teased her throat with his teeth and sucked gently, drawing his tongue in tiny circles, as he tasted her flesh. She gasped at the contact, craning her neck to allow him access.

_You know how much I want you...I know you can tell..._

Within moments a smile drew across his face lighting his features, "You are _saying _no, but the taste of you tells an entirely different story. You are clearly of two minds on this, yes my Love? So which will overrule, heart or mind?"

"My mind, H. Save the heart for later tonight."

His disappointment resonated in unintelligible mumbles as Hannibal rolled away from his wife and settled on his back clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes.

"What time is it?" he groused.

"It's already half past four and we haven't eaten for hours. I'm really hungry."

Clarice turned her body into his and rested her head on his chest.

Relishing the sensations, Hannibal sighed the extended outbreath of a contented man as he gathered the woman he loved comfortably in his arms. _I'm home. Finally, I'm home._

Soon, he was soundly asleep.

With her head resting on his chest Clarice could clearly hear the shift in his breathing. She lifted her head and seeing that he again closed his eyes and nodded off, she patted her hand on his chest and urged, "H…H…wake up! This baby of yours isn't exactly a light eater. I'm starving."

Hannibal opened his eyes slowly, "I was having the most magnificent dream of you."

Clarice pushed up from his body and sat up in bed briskly rubbing her hand on his chest. "Forget dreaming of me and feed me you magnificent man."

Hannibal laughed heartily as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"What would you like for supper? I'll make a trip to the market and pick up anything you'd like as long as it isn't on your 'do not eat' list."

Clarice busied herself beside her husband twirling her fingers through the hairs on his chest as she considered what his answer to her next request might be.

"H…maybe we could go out tonight. It would be romantic. Once the baby is born, we'll be kind of tied down and won't be able to get out as much."

"That's not necessarily an accurate statement, Clarice. Babies are actually quite portable and our son must be exposed to fine restaurants, museums and the like. We will constantly be out and about educating him. Still, your point is well taken we are running short on private time as the baby might arrive any day. Yes, I would be happy to escort you to dinner tonight."

Thrilled to get the answer she hoped, Clarice stood from the bed and rushed to her closet pushing hangers around in search for the perfect dress.

"This is so exciting! Let's just get in the car and drive…see where the night takes us. Time for you to stretch your legs a bit, you've been hemmed in long enough."

"That is a colossal understatement," Hannibal jested.

"Yeah and just to let you know, that's the last time we are ever going through that again! No more handcuffs for you, H."

"Oh, Clarice, that's disappointing. I was hoping for a little _good cop bad cop_ action tonight."

"Don't be such a wise-ass! Seriously, if anything goes to shit from now on and we'll be on a flight to anywhere because I am not going to watch you go through that ever again."

Hannibal stretched out, swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, tossed the sheets from his body and stood from the bed, "It isn't exactly on my list of future plans either, Clarice."

Hannibal and Clarice continued to talk as they dressed, moving comfortably around the master suite, in and out of the bathroom and around each other. They occasionally touched or kissed briefly if they happened to pass within reach of one another.

Soon they were both ready.

Hannibal stood in front of the mirror wearing black slacks, a belt with a silver buckle and a crisp white shirt. He was tying a silver and black paisley tie when Clarice approached and stared at his reflection, admiring him.

"You are the most attractive man I have ever seen." She commented as she wrapped her arms around him and slipped her hands into his front pockets.

"Caution your hands, Clarice or I will be removing this tie rather than tying it."

She pulled herself from him and slapped him on the backside as she moved away.

Hannibal admired his wife's reflection as she walked away from him. She wore a very elegant black and white dress with silver accents.

"You look absolutely stunning my Love," he moved to the closet and reached for his shoes.

She turned to consider their appearance and smiled, "You'd think we shopped together with all of the outfits we have that match."

"Great minds think alike, Clarice. Not to mention, men's fashions are fairly straightforward and you have very classic sensibilities when choosing your clothing. It makes for very compatible wardrobes." he spoke as he sat on the edge of the bed and slipped his foot into his wingtips.

Smiling widely, she held his suit jacket up, offering to help. Hannibal quickly laced up the shoes, strolled to his wife and turned, slipping his arms deftly into the sleeves. With his wife's help he shrugged on the jacket.

"Thank you, Clarice."

Clarice brushed her hands across his chest, feeling the expanse of it as she smiled, "You're more than welcome, H. God I love how you wear a suit."

"May I say there has never been a more beautiful woman than you, Clarice."

"You are so full of shit, H…it's a wonder your eyes aren't brown."

"Your colloquial candor is refreshing as always my Love."

Hannibal offered his hand. They looked the perfect pair as Hannibal draped an elegant wrap over his wife, extended a hand and led Clarice out the front door of the home. He armed the security system then paused as he considered the vehicle choice for the evening. Clarice noticed his indecision.

"Which car would you like to take, H?"

Although Hannibal had a clear preference and offered it, he left the final decision to his wife.

"I assume that would depend on whether you have decided to drive, Clarice. If I am behind the wheel, my choice would obviously be the Bentley."

She pulled him close, pressed against his body and leaned on his arm as she spoke, "Why don't you drive? You haven't been able to spend very much time behind the wheel and you could use a little freedom. I know how much that car means to you."

Arm and arm they walked to the car, Hannibal quietly recounting his thoughts as they walked in step.

"It is true, it is much more than mere transportation to me. In all the years I spent incarcerated, the one thing that played on my mind most was that car. I would often remember long drives fondly and passed many sleepless nights behind the wheel driving along the Chesapeake."

As Hannibal opened the door for his wife, she touched his face before entering and questioned, "Did you really not sleep at night?"

Hannibal kissed her cheek and guided her to her seat as he spoke, "I was awake most of the night. I slept very often during the day."

Clarice continued to question him as she secured her seatbelt.

"Why?"

Hannibal reached down, lifted the hem of Clarice's dress and smoothed it so as not to catch it in the door.

He leaned into the car to check her seatbelt and kissed her as he responded, "Why not? It was quiet at night. Barney had finished the majority of his work leaving time on his hands for the occasional conversation and it wasn't as if the sunlight was keeping me awake."

He held a hand signaling he would finish his thought momentarily as he closed the door and moved quickly around the car. Clarice turned her head to watch him, but his movements were so swift and silent she couldn't even determine which way he went.

_How the hell does he do that?_

Far more quickly than expected he opened the door and slipped stealthily inside. Finishing his thought he admitted, "Keep in mind also my Love, that Doctor Chilton worked the day shift."

Clarice laughed at the admission, "Well if that isn't the most passive aggressive thing I've ever heard!"

Hannibal chuckled, "Yes, decidedly so, but you must consider that I had little at my disposal with which to irritate the man. Rest assured when I discovered something he found exasperating, it became my fondest pastime. He found my circadian rhythm to be absolutely maddening."

"That's what I love about you, H…you controlled that situation more than they controlled you."

"One can trap a body, my Love, but not a mind. I had far more freedom within those four walls than Chilton had with the remainder of the world at his disposal. The infinitesimal capacity of his mind was so limiting, that knuckle dragger could barely be considered sentient."

Clarice placed her hand on his, resting comfortably on the shift eliciting a smile of satisfaction from Hannibal. They were clearly happy to be in each other's company.

As Hannibal attended to his driving Clarice noted no indecision in his turns.

_He obviously has a destination in mind…_

Clarice questioned, "Okay, are we all dressed up with nowhere to go or do you have a plan?"

A wry smile crossed Hannibal features, his small white teeth glistening as he spoke, "Have you ever known me not to have a plan, Clarice?"

"Nope, that's why I asked. Do we have reservations or are we just winging it?"

"Winging it? That is not exactly my style. No, we are not _winging it_. We have reservations for dinner at The Prime Rib on North Calvert. I reserved the semi-private room."

"Why?"

"Did you not want to spend a romantic dinner together?"

"Yes."

"Now consider the press coverage of late," he paused to allow Clarice a moment to process her thoughts, "taking that into consideration along with the curious eyes of strangers and the buzzing comments as we pass, privacy would be prudent, would it not? Let us not even begin to discuss the fact that I intend to order a slab of practically still bleeding meat for dinner…"

Hannibal pulled into the lot and parked the car. The Bentley itself was getting attention but the reactions escalated when passersby noticed Hannibal walking around the car to escort his wife from the vehicle.

Clarice exited to the pointed fingers and excited drones of curious onlookers.

Hannibal attended to his wife as he qualified, "It would seem we are already drawing a level of attention."

"I see what you mean. A semi-private room seems like a useless expense, though. I mean, really if they seat us quickly how many people will even recognize you?"

Wary of the bystanders, Hannibal held his wife protectively against his body as they moved with purpose to the front door of the restaurant.

"Clarice the color of my eyes being extremely rare everyone who makes eye contact will recognize me. It isn't as if I can wear sunglasses, and I have no idea where my colored contacts are anymore."

"I tossed them in the garbage, that's why you can't find them. I hated them."

"It wasn't as if they were a fashion choice, Clarice."

It pained her whenever she was reminded of his life alone in hiding. She leaned her head against his chest and squeezed his torso as they walked into the restaurant.

"I know, H…I know."

The pair were promptly greeted by their host whom like the entire wait staff, wore an impeccable tuxedo. He was a tall, thin man, the clothing and his body frame adding to an air of elegance.

He proudly announced in a voice just above what might be considered acceptable, "Good evening, Doctor Lecter, Mrs. Lecter. We have cleared the room you requested so you'll be able to enjoy a private dinner without concern."

Hannibal nodded politely, "Thank you, so much for your consideration."

"Not at all. Though I am new to the staff I have been told that you have long been a valued patron of The Prime Rib. The manager has instructed me to tell you that he understands your recent discomfort and I am to inform you that if there is anything I can do to make your evening more pleasurable, please don't hesitate to let me know and he will see to it personally."

The host waved his arm and directed the couple to follow him to the private dining area. Heads turned as the couple followed and there was a very sudden hush in the dining room as Hannibal, his wife on his arm, regally crossed the expanse.

Whispers hissed in a trail as the pair reached the center of the well-appointed room. Someone in the back of the room started to clap. Within seconds, the room erupted in applause. Hannibal raised his right hand graciously in acknowledgment and with his left hand pulled his wife closer to his body.

Seeing how uncomfortable Hannibal was by the attention Clarice conceded,

"Okay, H…you win. The private dining room was inspired."

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, "There is occasionally a method to my madness, Clarice."

Hannibal waved away the host in order that he might pull out Clarice's chair and seat his wife himself. The gentleman stepped aside and accepted the gesture without complaint leaving the pair to their privacy.

Hannibal took his seat and spoke softly, "Though I expected a level of scrutiny, I must admit that response took me quite by surprise."

"That was absolutely crazy." Clarice acknowledged, "I'm used to you being the center of attention, I'm just not used to that attention being positive."

Hannibal concurred, "Yes, I must admit that was a bit surreal."

The waiter delivered the menus and very quickly reviewed the specials for the evening's service. He then hastily excused himself and left Clarice and Hannibal to decide.

"H…the baby is due in a couple of weeks. Can I order whatever I want? I swear if I eat another piece of chicken I'll start pecking at pebbles."

"What were you considering?"

"We're in Maryland…crab cakes."

"Certainly, Clarice. What would you like as a side dish?"

"I'll go healthy…grilled asparagus. What about you?"

"As I said, steak, extra rare."

When the waiter arrived and introduced himself, Hannibal was prepared.

"The lady will begin with the house salad, vinaigrette, add the applewood bacon as well, the entrée will be the jumbo crab cakes with grilled asparagus," to his wife, "baked potato or mashed, Clarice?"

"Mashed, please."

"I will have the mashed as well, along with the Filet Oscar. May we also have a rack of lamb for the table, the mushroom trio…"

Hannibal paused for a moment to be certain he hadn't missed anything.

Clarice spotted an additional item on the menu and interjected, "H…can we get an order of onion rings?"

He raised an eyebrow, "_Going healthy_, Clarice?"

"Don't be such a wise ass, H."

"Heaven forbid." Hannibal teased. He turned to the waiter, "Onion rings as well, please."

"How would you like the steak prepared, Doctor?"

"Rare. Very."

Clarice placed her hand on the waiter's arm and leaned toward him as if sharing a secret.

"When my husband says rare, he really means mooing so tell the chef to walk the cow by, slice a piece off and just take the chill off."

"Would you like a salad or appetizer as well, Sir?"

"He'll have the oysters on the half shell," Clarice volunteered.

"Clarice?"

"We're alone tonight, H. You'll need them."

The waiter lowered his head attempting to hide his smile as he asked, "Half or full dozen?"

"Full dozen." She stated unabashedly as she reached a hand under the crisp white tablecloth and gripped her husband's thigh.

The waiter pretended not to notice. "Have you chosen a wine?"

"No wine, my wife is pregnant," Hannibal answered quickly.

Clarice argued, "You don't have to do without for me." She turned to the waiter, "What's your best red wine?"

"By the glass that will be a Cabernet Sauvignon, Buehler Vyds, Estate, Napa Valley."

"How about by the bottle?"

"We have a Bordeaux that would pair well with the beef and lamb selection. It's a Palmer Margaux."

"Clarice, you are normally much more fiscally conservative than 4oo dollars a bottle."

"And you haven't had a decent meal and a good glass of wine for weeks. Don't worry about drinking too much; I can drive us home. I think you deserve a little pampering."

She turned and addressed the waiter, "The Bordeaux would be marvelous, thank you."

The waiter smiled and moved from the table. Hannibal lifted Clarice's hand and kissed it.

"I'm beginning to think you have ulterior motives my Love. Oysters…a four hundred dollar bottle of wine? What am I to think?"

"You are to think happy thoughts until I get you home tonight, then…once the oysters have kicked in, you're all mine!"

"I have been all yours for years, Clarice. It just happened to take you some time to realize it."

Clarice looked away for a moment pushing her forks around as she responded pensively, "I think I always realized it. I was just too afraid."

Hannibal was surprised by the admission. "Of me?"

Still looking down at the cutlery Clarice continued, "No, I've never been afraid of you."

Seeing a momentary flash of vulnerability Hannibal pursued, "But you are afraid, Clarice. You are afraid and I am the cause. Is it a secret that you hesitate to share? Shall I guess?"

Clarice looked into his eyes, hers truthful and open, his, though loving, were intense and unrelenting.

"I don't have any secrets from you. Even if I tried to keep one, you'd sniff it out in a second anyway. Go ahead, guess…if you get it right, you win."

"What do I win?"

"Anything."

"I don't want _any_thing. I want _every_thing."

"That too."

The waiter returned with the wine. Hannibal tested the taste and bouquet, nodded and allowed the waiter to pour. He waited for privacy before continuing.

"Could it be that you did not want to accept me because you knew you would eventually lose me? Perhaps in your mind, it was easier to deny the possibilities and distance yourself from me than to grow close, join, and suffer the loss."

"Yeah, well, you can't miss what you never had…something like that. You're much older than I am so odds are I won't grow old with you…"

"Barring unforeseen circumstances it is true you will eventually have to say goodbye to me, though hopefully not in the near future. I will be another family member you will bury, Clarice, but unlike those who left before, I will leave a part of me behind. I will eventually leave this life, but together we have created life. My love for you will be evident every time you look at our child…hopefully, our children. I would not be able to say that if not for you. You have given my life meaning I had not even considered. We, both of us, are part of a family again. This is a bond I take very seriously."

"I do too, H…just promise not to leave me too soon."

"Whenever it is that I am forced to part from you, my Love, I assure you it will be too soon."

"Hannibal?"

An eyebrow arched at the use of his name, though he did not draw additional attention to it.

"Yes, Clarice?"

"When the time comes and we're parted…however it happens…whenever it happens…know how much I love you."

"And know that when I am taken from you it will be exactly that as I will fight to remain by your side. I love you with a passion that is unparalleled. There is no other woman alive more loved or desired than I love and desire you."

Seeing his wife's response, Hannibal reached over and dabbed a crisp white handkerchief at the tears threatening to spill over her eyelids.

Just before he drew back his hand she grabbed his wrist and kissed his pulse point pressing his hand against the side of her face as she spoke, "You win, H."

"Yes, Clarice. More than you know."

**Until the next chapter, my friends,**

**LH**


	117. Chapter 117

**HANNIBAL CONTENT**

Hannibal could see the conflicting feelings just beginning to emerge within his wife. She was sub-consciously processing the emotions that had built during his recent incarceration. Walls of protection erected were eroding around her.

Clarice had suppressed her fears while her husband was in the company of the late Doctor Bloom. Though she trusted Hannibal and believed him well prepared, she didn't trust Bloom. She had to prepare herself for any, _every_ eventuality, including her husband's death. Though she was confident of his strength, his age concerned her thus she was aware of the outside chance he might succumb. She had girded herself to either fight by his side or to raise their child alone.

_I can see the stress leaching from your eyes, my Love. You have endured far too much over these last weeks. It is time for you to set down the burden you have carried in my stead._

Hannibal meticulously folded the square of refined linen used to gather his wife's precious tears while considering how best to continue her healing. The direct approach being far too emotional in public, flanking seemed to be the most expeditious way to achieve the results he desired. Seeking to distract from the emotion of the moment, Hannibal flashed a mischievous smile.

"So, what do I win, Clariiiice?" he jokingly hissed as his hand nimbly replaced the handkerchief for future use within his pocket.

_Was there a flash of a smile? _

So brave, so strong was his Clarice that she shook off her fears and gathered herself. A moment. She swallowed hard and composed quickly.

"Like I said, it's up to you to decide what you want and when you'll collect. Any ideas?"

Now that the tumult was at an end and her vast well of defenses was no longer needed Hannibal sought to encourage her to shed these emotional barriers much like a growing snake emerges from ill-fitting skin. For this he needed proximity. He needed touch and suspected she did as well.

Hannibal stood and lifted his chair. This was not the time to sit across from his wife. He moved his seat to just beside hers that their chairs and bodies might touch.

Hannibal leaned in close, whispering hungrily in her ear scandalously, "Trust that I have a _wealth_ of ideas, Clarice."

Sensing unexpected approach from behind the concerned husband stop speaking very abruptly and shifted quickly in his seat to face the movement.

"If you will pardon and please allow me, Doctor."

The waiter assigned to their table, seeing Hannibal move his seat hurried to shift the place setting and appetizer to the spot directly beside Clarice.

"Please excuse my interruption, Doctor Lecter, you should be more comfortable now."

Hannibal nodded in appreciation as the waiter, after achieving his objective, very quickly disappeared into the background.

Resuming his thought, Hannibal very softly spoke against his wife's ear. Though the waiter was unobtrusive, he was near and these words were for Clarice alone.

As her concerned husband spoke, his voice was rich and sultry. Putting all meaning aside the mere timbre of his voice, soothed and the deep resonance of the sound warmed her throughout.

_I could listen to you every moment of my life and not tire of it. I love you, H._

Her vulnerability clear, Hannibal directed her emotion to strength, to fire, as that was her foundation and her core.

_When one is weakened, cast off the clay of self-doubt and re-build on the armature. Yours is passion, Clarice: for life and for me._

"My dearest wife, I was away from you for several weeks. Believe me when I say that all I had to _comfort_ me at night _were_ ideas_… scenarios…exchanges_…"

As the past context of Hannibal's words rang in her ears, the tears were quickly forgotten and an impish glint flashed in her eyes. The temptation too great for her to ignore she leaned in teased, "_Fucking me?"_

He laughed both at her memory and her boldness. He then leaned over and nibbling at her neck lovingly rewarded her daring with a devilish audacity all his own.

"In absolutely _unholy _ways, Clarice."

Blushing less from embarrassment than anticipation, Clarice playfully slapped Hannibal's shoulder. She could barely contain her delight and brazenly pursued her husband, kissing his neck in return.

Though Hannibal noted the cell phone cameras occasionally lift to capture their privacy he was no longer in hiding and not at all ashamed of his Love. In point of fact, he was actually quite proud and as such did not censor his behavior nor did he draw attention to the voyeurism, as he didn't want Clarice to feel self-conscious.

Clueless to their audience, or perhaps sub-consciously dismissing it as unimportant she flirted, "Hmmm, well my sexy man, maybe we should we compare notes. I'll bet we have a lot of the same ideas."

Not to be out done he winked and insinuated, "Though, as I stated earlier, great minds do indeed think alike, I'll not disrespect you by revealing the_ darkest_ corners of my libido. Keep in mind, my Love, it is not in my nature to be tame."

Hannibal clutched a halved mollusk, balanced it delicately on his fingertips and turned it to his pursed his lips. Maintaining salacious eye contact he shamelessly slipped his tongue under the meat of the oyster and sensually sucked the bivalve from its shell.

The quick uptake in Clarice's breath told him all he needed to know.

_We should have stayed home my Love. I would have had you naked in my arms by now._

Clarice, her heart pounding from her body's reaction to the flirtation, leaned forward, reached for his cheek and brushed her lips along his jaw.

Hannibal closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the contact, though he was careful to monitor his breathing as his wife admitted blatantly, "I'm totally turned on right now and I'm pretty sure you are, too."

She nibbled at his ear as she whispered, her voice rich with lust, "Don't forget, H…I _know_ your _darkest corners _and I'd never tame you. I _want_ you wild."

Her confession caused a brief loss of her husband's self-control, Hannibal's breathing hitched as his hold over his body escaped him momentarily. His cheek now pressed firmly against hers, his hand reached for her neck slipping just past the curtain of her hair to hold her firm.

"Speaking for my state of arousal, let us just say it wouldn't be prudent for me to stand from the table, Clarice." He leaned in closer and began to search the softness of her skin, drawing his nose gently along the tender flesh of her throat. Hannibal content, he surrendered control to reveal the full measure of his desire by placing her hand on his sternum that she could feel as his heart pounding his want.

Clarice's eyes widened as she felt his heart racing with passion. Knowing his self-control regulated his heartbeat in even the most extreme situations, she was surprised at the speed of the beating, Clarice moved to pull her hand away and question, "Your heart, H? Why? Is something wrong?"

He held her hand firmly in place, "Nothing wrong, Clarice. I thought you might like to experience my unbridled lust for you. No control, just me, my Love, wanting you…that is all."

She lowered her head for a moment in relief, "Thank God. It scared me."

"Speaking of scary, you found my aspects of my libido, if recollection serves, to be shocking. The acts, disturbing, even."

Clarice kissed his cheek and whispered, "I wasn't distressed by the acts themselves, I was distraught they were shared with someone distinctly _not me_."

Surprised by the admission Hannibal released his wife and sat back in his chair, considering her comment carefully.

"My, my aren't we full of surprises, Clarice. Well then, perhaps later this evening we shall compare notes whereas I'll decide just how I will collect my winnings."

The pair separated slightly as the waiter returned to oversee the removal of the dishes and cutlery used during the appetizer course. The entrées were soon delivered to the table.

"You concentrate on your winnings, H…I've got some serious eating to do. You'd better try to keep up. You'll need your strength, that's for sure!"

"Not to worry, my Love. I assure you I will be up to the task."

Clarice, thrilled at the parade of delicacies, wasted no time in arranging the plates and bowls in a way that would make it easier for her to access each side dish. She moved her fork over the assembled items, pretending to stab at the food to measure the distance and range of motion needed to attain each. She then waved her fork over the selections, considering each as she readied to conduct her first bite.

Hannibal watched her mesmerized not only by her beauty, but the eccentricity, the sheer whimsy of her activities. Enthralled, he drew attention to the behavior with a playful admonishment, "Clarice didn't your parents teach you_ not_ to play with your food?"

Unaffected by his loving disapproval she responded with assurance, "Though not at all similar to your circumstances, H…there were times in my childhood as well when there wasn't enough food. If I play around a bit, you ought to understand more than anyone that there are times food isn't just food."

Hannibal flashed his small white teeth in a smile so wicked the waiter stepped back from the table.

"Yes, sometimes food is an incompetent flautist or an ill-mannered census taker."

Remembering their interaction that night on the Chesapeake Clarice rapped his wrist with a butter knife as she reproved, "Watch it, H. Pardon or not, you 're in a public place you know. One of your _meals _might have a pissed off relative!"

"Your point is well taken, Clarice. Please, by all means, play away."

Filling her plate with an assemblage of items Clarice began to dive her fork in and enjoy sumptuous bites with glee.

Hannibal watched the display with rapt attention while simultaneously considering his periphery. He could see several patrons of the restaurant were very keenly interested in the activities at his and Clarice's table.

Again, he noted the occasional cell phone to capture their interaction but as no one approached the table, it didn't raise his ire. Ever mindful, he watched carefully and surreptitiously searched the air but his senses could detect no hint of threat or malice. That didn't mean he stopped watching them. It just meant that, _for the time being,_ the Harpy would remain within his sleeve.

"You haven't touched a bite of your food," Clarice noted.

Hannibal looked down at his plate as if surprised he hadn't disturbed the contents.

"Yes, you're right. My apologies, I am a bit distracted."

"Eat up. I doubt you got much red meat at your last accommodations. I'll bet your iron levels are low. That cut should appeal to your refined palate so get after it."

"They served what approached meat though it was grey in pallor and most definitively not palatable."

Dutifully attending to her concerns, Hannibal began to slice the meat placing one bite in his mouth and another section on Clarice's plate. He repeated the process with each bite he took.

Clarice accepted the first two morsels without complaint. When it became obvious Hannibal would continue she parried his fork with her own.

"I don't want to take your dinner, H."

"Nonsense, Clarice, _your_ iron levels are a concern as well. Perhaps you would care to sample the lamb?"

"No, the beef goes well with the crab cakes but the Lamb just doesn't sit well with me. To be honest, I never really developed a taste for it and don't give me any of your psychobabble bullshit either."

"_Psychobabble bullshit,_ on _you,_ Clarice? God forbid."

The pair enjoyed the rest of their meal in relative privacy. Clarice ordered cheesecake for dessert. Hannibal ended his meal with strawberries topped with fresh whipped cream and the Cappuccino L'Amore, an Italian coffee blended with a combination of 6 liqueurs.

Hannibal sampled the drink and nodded his approval.

"Your driving skills will be needed, Clarice. I fear if I was to be stopped by the police, the alcohol content of my breath would melt the meter."

"No problem, H."

Clarice pulled the bowl of strawberries away from Hannibal and was not at all surprised when he didn't complain.

_There isn't a thing he would deny me…_

With a curled finger, she beckoned him to lean forward and open his mouth. His eyebrow arched suspiciously for a moment, though he followed her request. He would follow her from a cliff if she asked.

Clarice smiled and fed him one of the strawberries with a dollop of whipped cream.

As Hannibal closed his mouth around the fruit and chewed, Clarice reached for the bowl, scooped a healthy amount of the cream on her index finger and deposited it on the tip of Hannibal's nose.

Ever dignified, he sat waiting for her next move.

"_Really_, Clarice. Is this how you treat the father of your child? In public no less?"

"No, this is how I treat the father of my child in public." Clarice leaned in close and kissed the cream from the tip of his nose.

"H…thanks for taking me out."

"Not at all, Clarice. Indulge me by allowing me to thank you for staying so firmly by my side. I know I haven't made the last few months easy on you and yet you have comported yourself with strength and grace. I am humbled by your love and your dedication. Know that I will protect and love you and our child with the same tenacity you yourself have shown. No harm will ever come to you or to our son so long as I draw breath."

Clarice reached up and brushed the back of her hand along his cheek.

"I know H…I know."

Hannibal reached for her hand and held it in place for a moment. He then lifted it to his lips and kissed the inside of her hand tenderly.

As he could see from the corner of his eye that the waiter was returning to their table with the bill, Hannibal released her hand with a sigh and reached for his wallet. He handed his Black Card to the waiter, careful to keep the total from Clarice, as the expense of their privacy was indeed high.

Within minutes, the waiter returned. Hannibal was signing the receipt and soon became quite busy dealing with the waiter who thanked him effusively for the excessively generous tip.

Clarice busied herself collecting the leftover food, packed neatly by the kitchen staff.

She spoke only when the waiter had taken his leave.

"I can't believe you were going to let this food go to waste."

Hannibal helped her with her wrap and guided her from the table.

"I have an aversion to the term, 'doggie bag' Clarice, but for you, of course, anything."

Clarice turned to face the room for the first time since their arrival.

"I'd like to return again before the baby's born. The dark walls, waiters in tuxedos and crisp linens give this place has an old world elegance that reminds me of you. Well, all but the leopard skin rugs that is."

Clarice was still surveying the room when she turned her head just in time to see a patron capturing a photograph.

"H, were you aware of the cameras?"

"Yes. As you know, I am ever aware, Clarice."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"What is there to say? There will always be cameras and there will always be people curious of our relationship. As I have nothing to hide, least of all my love for you, I pay them no mind."

Clarice looped her arm through Hannibal's. She was obviously agitated by the attention and pulled him tightly to her.

"Nosy bastards. If I weren't pregnant, I'd give them one hell of a show that's for sure."

"Of that I have no doubt." Hannibal continued as he pulled her protectively against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and responded playfully, "My cell phone has a camera as well, Clarice. Perhaps you might offer me a private viewing when we get home?"

Clarice slapped him playfully, "Don't be such a wise ass, H!"

Hannibal content, he held her close to his heart.

**Until the next chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	118. Chapter 118

**WHIPPED**

Clarice was having no trouble handling the Bentley and Hannibal was rather enjoying his position in the passenger seat.

As Clarice attended to the road, her husband attended to the silky skin on the inside of her thigh dragging his fingernails very lightly as he concentrated on the sartorius muscle, running his hands up and down the full extension of her leg.

He then turned his hand inward and shifted his focus to the gracilis muscle relishing the tactile sensations as he considered both the elegant length and the lean musculature of her limb. He hummed soft and low as he obsessed with the sensual texture of her soft skin and inhaled deeply as he reached toward the heat at the joining of her thighs.

"Ummm, Clarice, your body is captivating. Your legs magnificent and your scent…exquisite."

Clarice shifted slightly away from his hand, "H, I'm driving…give me a break I can't concentrate."

Hannibal leaned closer, his shoulder now touching hers, and craned his neck to whisper against her cheek, his right hand still searching, "Would you deny me this pleasure, my Love?"

Clarice playfully bumped his shoulder with hers pushing him back momentarily.

"H, not that I want to deny you, but we'd be the talk of the town if I wrap this car around a pole. Next thing you know, firemen and police officers will have to extricate your hand from between my legs in order to remove our bodies from this vehicle."

Unconcerned, Hannibal again scandalously searched beneath her dress.

"If I were to die with my hand between your legs, Clarice, I assure you I would've died a very happy man."

Clarice stated plainly as she lightly slapped his arm, "I'd rather meet my son before I meet my maker so remove your hand, please."

Hannibal lifted his hands from beneath her dress and raised them above his head in surrender.

"Know that I do so only under protest, my Love."

Clarice giggled at her husband's dramatic response, "Duly noted, H."

Occasionally throughout the remainder of the ride, Hannibal would use his index and middle fingers, downturned, and would playfully walk them up her leg. Every time he reached the edge of her dress and used his index finger to lift the hem, Clarice would smack his hand aside causing Hannibal no end of amusement.

Clarice parked and waited for Hannibal to open her door and escort her from the car. Though he found the prospect distasteful he even carried the food leftover from the restaurant as he held his wife by the elbow, disarmed the security system and opened the door.

"After you, my Love."

"Why thank you, kind Sir."

Hannibal rested his hand on the small of her back and escorted her into the foyer, removing her wrap. He kissed her shoulder as he slipped the garment from her.

"Shall I put away the food and run a bath for you?"

"You can put the food away, that would be great but I'd rather relax in the tub tomorrow morning for an hour or so before my doctor's appointment. I'm actually scheduled for an internal examination and that always makes me nervous so a bath before would be relaxing. I'd love to curl up in front of the fireplace and cuddle for an hour or two before bed. Would you build us a fire?"

"Your wish is my command, Clarice."

Hannibal placed the food within the refrigerator and moved to the family room to dutifully build a roaring fire.

Clarice changed from her clothing quickly and returned to Hannibal wrapped in her plush bathrobe, slippers and nothing more.

She found her husband resting on the couch beneath a quilt. She could see that he was shirtless and turned to notice his suit jacket draped over the back of his wing chair. His slacks and shirt were folded neatly as well. His shoes were beneath the chair with his socks neatly rolled and tucked within.

_Okay so what's left, H…just your boxers?_

Eyes closed, his head rested on a throw pillow and his legs stretched out across the sofa. Hannibal was the picture of calm as he slept soundly in front of the fire.

_That's what I get for ordering you that bottle of wine, huh, H? That's okay you deserve to rest. You've been through hell and come out the other side so the least I can do is let you sleep._

Clarice lifted the quilt very gently so as not to disturb her sleeping husband and could see he had covered the sofa with one half of the quilt and removed his boxers as well. Clarice took her place by his side on the oversized sofa, opened her robe and closed it around them. Flesh warming flesh she snuggled alongside her husband, rested her head on his chest and within moments was sound asleep.

Neither spouse woke before morning.

Hannibal stirred first somewhat surprised to find he had dropped off to sleep. He stretched against his wife and pulled her to him. His movement softly shook her awake so he began to caress her body, intent to fulfill the physical the promise of the night previous.

Clarice was forced to disappoint."Ummm, what time is it, H?"

Hannibal slipped his left arm from behind his wife and checked his watch.

His voice was still raspy from sleep, "It's quarter past eight. What time is your appointment?"

"I have to be at the office by nine forty-five. They require patients arrive fifteen minutes prior to the appointment and I'm scheduled for ten."

Hannibal ignored the response lifted her chin and began to kiss his wife. Clarice initially responded as his lips searched hers tenderly. He ran his tongue along her lips, teasing at the separation.

Clarice parted her lips slightly in welcome.

As the contact escalated and it became apparent Hannibal sought more than an early morning cuddle, Clarice was reluctantly forced to interrupt.

"Sorry, H…no time for fooling around we have to get up. Are you coming with me or am I still on my own?"

Hannibal kissed the top of her head as he spoke quietly, "I've missed far too many appointments already, Clarice. I would be more than proud to be by your side."

Clarice sat on the edge of the couch and rested her hand on Hannibal's stomach, her eyes searching as she processed, "Are you sure? Don't forget everyone's coming to dinner tonight to celebrate. We've got Barney and his girlfriend, Ardelia and Logan, Clint and his wife, Will and Molly, even Lloyd is coming."

Hannibal covered her hand with his, continually rubbing his thumb over her wedding ring as he remembered, "I invited the neighbors as well, Mr. and Mrs. Ward were thrilled to be included."

Clarice began to count on her fingers as she listed the expected guests in her mind.

"Okay so including us, that makes what?"

Hannibal sat up and scooted his hips to sit beside Clarice. He stretched and yawned before responding, "Thirteen to dinner, unless Lloyd had decided to bring a date."

Patting Hannibal's thigh as she stood, Clarice decided, "I'll ask him. I really don't want thirteen people at a dinner celebrating our baby."

Hannibal stood and stretched his back and shoulders. His eyes glistened as he found Clarice's comment amusing.

"Suddenly superstitious, my Love?"

She began folding the quilt and moved to the closet to store it, not at all self-conscious of his physical or mental scrutiny.

"Not especially, but this close to the baby being born I'm not tempting fate."

Hannibal followed, and as his wife reached to put the quilt on the shelf, he slipped his hands around her waist pulling her against his body. Melding with her, he swayed back and forth holding her hips close. Hannibal hung his head over her shoulder, speaking close.

"I regret my exhaustion combined with the ample food and drink caused me to sleep rather than make love with you, Clarice."

Clarice closed the closet and relaxed into his arms.

"It's okay, H…we've got time for that. You just got home and obviously needed sleep more than sex. I'll make sure you're satisfied later tonight."

"Regardless of the context, each morning I wake with you in my arms, I am satisfied."

"Me too, H…me too."

Clarice and Hannibal were readied and on the way to the appointment in more than enough time. The waiting room was crowded so much so that Hannibal stood quietly behind Clarice with a hand on her shoulder. He surveyed the room to find several women, most unaccompanied waiting patiently for their names to be called, some with young children in tow. The young man occasionally called a name and escorted the patient to an examination room.

Clarice busied herself with parenting magazines and pamphlets for first time mothers.

Hannibal now busied himself watching a young man stocking the shelves in a corner of the waiting room. It wasn't that the young man presented a threat; it was more that he seemed overtly curious. His gaze was not the casual glance of a bystander. His stare seemed purposeful and as such, gave Hannibal pause.

_What is your intent my friend? Why does my skin crawl when our eyes meet?_

The young man was fairly athletic looking and seemed to be out of place as an office assistant. Whatever his purpose, Hannibal was ill at ease.

"Clarice, have you seen that young man on previous visits? I don't recall his presence when last I escorted you."

Clarice looked around the room, not clueing in immediately to Hannibal's concern.

"What young man?"

Too polite to point, Hannibal quietly described, "The gentleman calling women to their appointments. He was just stocking the antibacterial lotion by the counter."

"Who? Dennis? He's the doctor's nephew. He goes to university somewhere around here. I guess he must be on spring break or something. He seems to show up on school vacations and such to help out."

Hannibal's concern fully entrenched he sought to share his apprehension, "He is paying an inordinate amount of attention to our activities."

Clarice totally dismissed the alarm, "H, he's just a pimple-faced college kid so just tone down the anxiety and cut him some slack. Hell, it's probably the first time he's seen a cannibal up close so maybe if he's a little freaked out."

"Very funny, Clarice. Student or not, my instincts are rarely wrong. There must be some reason he raises my suspicion."

Clarice folded the magazine and tossed it on the coffee table, irritated at Hannibal's disquiet.

"For fuck's sake, everyone raises your suspicion, H…he's what…twelve or something? I don't think he's going to pose much of a problem do you?"

Not wanting to send his wife's blood pressure soaring, for her sake, Hannibal verbally dismissed his own concern, "If you say so, Clarice."

Hannibal then covertly continued to watch as the suspicious student went about his activities with one eye on the task at hand, and the other on Hannibal. When the shady aide left the room, Hannibal noticed a rolled up copy of The National Tattler in the back pocket of his trousers. Clearly noticing the rolled letters, N, N, I, B, A, in sequence, the good doctor shifted from one leg to the other, wary.

_What have you read that has drawn your daring, my dubious friend?_

Several minutes later, the young man returned the waiting room and announced as if he did not recognize, "Mrs. Clarice Lecter?"

Hannibal tilted his head as he dismissed the substandard performance.

_You are a very poor actor indeed._

Unaware of her husband's continued mistrust and absolutely unguarded herself, Clarice stood and walked to the door where the young man waited.

"Hi, I'm Clarice Lecter."

The young man's eyes gathered in Clarice's bosom, leering for a moment until a brief shift caused him to make eye contact with Hannibal. As if struck in the back of the head by Hannibal's venomous stare, the boy's head fell forward as he pretended to contemplate the ground at his feet.

He moved without averting his gaze and spoke as he walked, "Follow me, Mrs. Lecter and I'll bring you to your examination room."

As the aide passed the desk the doctor spoke, "Dennis can you put Mrs. Lecter in examination room two please?"

As the young man heard the direction and stopped, a flash of discontent crossed his eyes.

Hannibal could smell the panic rise from young Dennis' pores.

_Why would a change to the room bring a sudden rush of panic?_

Dennis regrouped, "I can't. I just mopped that room and the tile is still wet. I'm putting her in number three if that's okay. I don't want anyone to fall or anything."

The doctor waved a hand in acknowledgement. "No problem, that was very responsible of you, thanks."

As alarms sounded, Hannibal followed very closely and quietly. The young man directed Clarice to the dressing room and gave her a garment to wear.

"Mrs. Lecter. When you have changed, you can sit on the examination table and wait. The doctor will be with you shortly."

Though he passed Hannibal several times as he moved around the room, the young man kept his eyes downturned and did not address him. He spoke only to Clarice.

The precise moment Dennis moved far enough from the room to convince Hannibal he could not be overheard the wary husband spoke to his wife very quietly as she disrobed. As it was just she and Hannibal, Clarice hadn't bothered to close the curtain between them. She handed him her dress and a hanger.

As Hannibal carefully slipped the dress on the hanger and neatly placed it on a hook within the dressing room he leaned close to his wife and whispered, "I don't trust him, Clarice."

Clarice rolled her eyes as she slipped off her undergarments speaking with affectionate sarcasm, "Yeah but you don't trust anyone, H."

Hannibal surveyed his wife's state of undress and looked over his shoulder half expecting the young man to appear unannounced. His voice warned, "Yes, and I trust him even less than that. I don't like the way he looks at you."

Now wearing the garment given Clarice placed a comforting palm on Hannibal's chest, reached up and kissed him very tenderly, "Again, H…you don't like the way _anyone_ looks at me."

Clarice now prepared, Hannibal took her gently by the hand and guided her to sit on the examination table. Touching the stirrups with a fingertip he mumbled, "This entire process is positively medieval. There is nothing about this that is either natural or comforting."

"Hey, how do you think I feel? I'm the one getting ready to cowgirl up in the stirrups. Not the most pleasant experience, I can tell you."

"I don't suppose it would be…still…nothing seems right about this."

"Just relax and enjoy the show, okay big guy. You're totally freaking me out."

"My apologies, my Love. I shouldn't voice my concerns. You need to relax."

He held her in his arms very protectively as they waited for the doctor.

Clarice was examined thoroughly. The doctor explained that the recent ultrasound showed the placenta had indeed migrated and a vaginal delivery was expected. Of course, they would have all contingencies prepared for, but it looked as though the delivery would proceed without fear of abnormal complications.

Hannibal half-listened as the doctor discussed dilation and the thinning of the cervix. He was already well aware of how the pregnancy was progressing and what he needed to anticipate in order to see Clarice safely through to the end. He was more preoccupied with the nagging suspicion needling him.

Clarice asked several questions and reasserted her desire to have Hannibal help deliver the baby. The doctor agreed and after a series of pleasantries and a smile or two directed at Hannibal, she excused herself.

Redressing quickly, Clarice lobbied for a pancake breakfast as Hannibal escorted her from the room to the area where she would book her next appointment.

When the young man passed Hannibal and, without a patient in tow, returned to the room where Clarice had just been, the coincidence was too much for the suspicious doctor.

_What are you up to my shady friend?_

Hannibal whispered to Clarice, "I will return momentarily, Clarice. I believe I set my car keys down in the examination room."

Hannibal very quickly and with no small measure of stealth, returned to the examination room just in time to see the young man retrieving a small camera from it's hiding place on a shelf across from the table on which Clarice had just been examined.

Seeing Hannibal the young man panicked and bolted from the room using a secondary door. Hannibal, realizing the camera would have fully recorded the entire examination, burst from the room and began running after the boy, murderous rage flashing in his eyes.

The culprit dashed past the scheduling area raising the curiosity of his aunt. She called after him,

"Hey, Dennis, where are you going? What the hell!"

When Hannibal bolted past obviously hotly in pursuit Clarice panicked as the doctor spoke softly to the receptionist, "Call down the sub-station and tell the police we have a situation. They can check the monitors and see where they went but tell them we are dealing with Hannibal Lecter so get up here, quick!"

The doctor turned to Clarice, "Do you have any clue what's going on, Mrs. Lecter?"

"I know Hannibal was concerned that Dennis was acting suspicious, that must be why he went back into the room. He must have seen something… I have no idea what the hell just happened…" realization suddenly just dawning, "…and what the fuck do you mean we are dealing with Hannibal Lecter? It looks like we're dealing with your piece of shit nephew."

The doctor was preoccupied with her own fears and didn't make note of Clarice's comment, "Should I worry about what your husband might do to Dennis if he catches him?"

"There is no _if, _he'll catch him, it's _when_ he'll catch him, and I have no idea what H will do…I guess that depends on what the hell your nephew did. The way Hannibal took after him, it can't be good. And I'll tell you what- you need to worry about what _I'm_ going to do when he catches him 'cuz if that snot nosed little bastard is up to something I'll kick the shit out of him my damned self!"

Using the rails on each turn to slingshot him around to the next flight and racing down the stairs with reckless abandon Hannibal caught up to young Dennis in the stairwell three flights down from the office. Eyes shifting as he evaluated the situation, the good doctor noticed the surveillance cameras mounted on the wall. Everything he did would be recorded. The Harpy would have to stay within his sleeve. Hannibal closed the distance and extended an open hand, the menace pouring from his eyes.

"I'll have that camera, young man."

Dennis was shaking from fear and overexertion his voice shook as he spoke, "What camera? I don't know what you're talking about…I don't have no camera."

Hannibal stepped forward and backed the young man into a corner so he could not dash down the next flight of stairs.

His voice hissing with his rage he threatened, "You may not have much education, but you most certainly do have a camera and if you do not put it in my hands instantly I assure you I will remove it from your person in any way I see fit."

Hannibal continued to slowly stalk young Dennis with blood in his eyes.

The young man, after reading the morning's Tattler, understood how much money he could make selling the contents of the camera's memory card. He measured his strength to Hannibal's and optimistically assessed himself the stronger of the two. Emboldened now that he believed himself to be more than equal to the older man, young Dennis balled his fingers tightly, closed his eyes and launched his fist in the direction of Hannibal's face.

Hannibal gracefully slipped the punch and countered with a right cross to the young man's jaw. The boy spun from the contact and slammed against the stair rail, slumping to one knee, spitting blood.

Dennis stood and extended his arm to keep enough separation to allow a moment to gather his courage and his breath.

There was an economy of movement as he attacked that seemed balletic. No wasted energy. No fear in his eyes, just the objective and his pursuit of it. Somehow, Hannibal standing deadly still and staring forward was even more terrifying. Dennis cowered as again, the request he knew he would ignore was again made.

"I'll not ask again. Give me the camera."

Through gritted teeth he responded, "I already told you I don't have a camera. You must be senile old man."

Hannibal's blazing crimson eyes narrowed as he growled, "Then you will excuse me as I will be forced to remove it from your unconscious body."

The reprobate with far more nerve than brains challenged, "Just shut the fuck up and bring it, _old man_!"

Hannibal surged forward, and feigned a left jab. The young man moved away from what he thought was coming causing him to move directly into the raging right hook Hannibal launched a split second later.

When Hannibal's fist hit the young man's nose the bone smashed and blood exploded everywhere. Without giving the fool a chance to react, Hannibal charged forward and crashed his shoulder into the young man's torso.

Charging forward Hannibal drove the offender with all his might into the cinderblock wall. As the pair crashed together, Hannibal's right elbow drove across the delinquent's mouth, causing spit and blood to fountain everywhere.

"You will die for your disrespect to my wife," he rasped in his victim's ear.

Suddenly, the door flew open and two police officers rushed through, guns drawn.

Hannibal paid no attention as he ferociously attacked the young man. Fists flying he continued to pummel the wrongdoers face until the offensive individual slumped in a bloody pile to the ground. The young man curled into the fetal position bleeding profusely and barely conscious.

Seeing help had arrived Dennis pleaded, "Get him off me he's fucking crazy! He wants to kill me!"

The police officers secured their guns and grabbed Hannibal just as he pulled the camera from the young man's pocket. Obviously frightened, they lifted Hannibal and slammed him against the opposite wall.

With the camera in hand and not wanting to give the officers any more reason than they already had to arrest him, Hannibal put up absolutely no offense as the officers sought to secure him. They pinned him just as Clarice burst through the doorway.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The larger, younger of the officers stood in front of Hannibal with a hand placed firmly on his sternum to prevent movement.

The older of the duo spoke calmly, "That's what we're trying to determine, Mrs. Lecter. Do you have a clue?"

Clarice was flabbergasted to see the young man's face pouring blood and pushed past both policemen to face her husband, his eyes still flashing murderous intent.

She was the only one in the room not terrified. The cops were shocked when she shoved Hannibal's shoulders to get his attention, "Holy fucking hell, H! Did you just beat the shit out of that kid?"

Hannibal sought to explain without giving away the camera, "He's not a kid he's a grown man with very dubious intention."

"H, I don't give a good goddamned if he's Benjamin Fucking Button why the hell did you chase him and bust him up so goddamned bad? He's bleeding like a stuck pig."

"Much as I would have loved to, I did not _stick him_."

Clarice moved closer and spoke against her husband's cheek, "H, your eyes are glowing and you look fucking homicidal so just tell me what the hell went on to make you chase him?"

Hannibal was forced to speak that which he found distasteful.

"He planted a camera in the room pointed directly between the stirrups of the table, Clarice. He has video of your entire exam."

The older officer was incredulous as he directed his partner, "You've got to be kidding me? Get that camera and we'll see if it's true."

The younger police officer quickly wrenched the camera from Hannibal's grip.

Hannibal thrashed and pulled in a violent attempt to escape and regain control of the equipment. The enraged husband roared his fury, "You'll not view that footage! It's extremely graphic and my wife is entitled to medical privacy."

Calmly considering the situation and wanting to settle Hannibal, the older of the two officers handed the camera to Clarice.

"Have a look, Mrs. Lecter and let us know what you see. You're ex-FBI, we trust you."

Clearly horrified, Clarice accessed the video card and played back the entire exam. In order to illustrate the content without compromising her dignity she cued the section where the young man turned on the camera and placed it on the shelf.

She showed the evidence to the officers and allowed them to view up to the moment she placed her feet in the stirrups. She then allowed them to listen to audio only so they could determine that the entire exam was filmed.

Hannibal twisted and pulled, practically dislocating his own arms in the struggle as he writhed against the officer's grip. Calling out to his wife, the defensive husband urged, "Erase the tape, Clarice. _Erase the tape._"

The older officer spoke softly as he outlined the plan.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen…there's a camera just over your left shoulder and I have no idea if anyone is manning it now, Mrs. Lecter. It's got video but no audio. If you would rather erase the tape than press charges, let me know so I'll know how to proceed. What would you like to do, Mrs. Lecter?"

Clarice's eyes showed her approval, "I'd much rather erase the tape. The kid is my doctor's nephew. I'd rather she handle it."

The officer processed his plan quickly as his partner exerted great effort to hold onto Hannibal.

"Okay, we are going to let your husband go and he's going to take that camera from your hands and erase the file that contains your exam. Of course, without evidence we won't be able to take this piece of shit little peeping tom into custody. Understood?"

Clarice nodded, "Yes, understood."

Staring at the voyeur, Hannibal's eyes filled with brimstone and rage. He was absolutely distraught and wouldn't be stilled until the video was erased.

In full view of the surveillance he continued his struggle. If anyone from security viewed the footage they would believe the moment the officer let that Hannibal had slipped the man's grip.

The younger policeman, his large arms spent from the struggle, finally released his grip. Hannibal leapt forward pounced on the camera and pulled it quickly from Clarice's hand to finally erase the offending evidence.

The officers grasped Hannibal quickly and ran him backward against the wall slamming him hard to make it look realistic. The air left Hannibal's lungs and he doubled over dropping to his knees gasping to catch his breath. The younger officer affixed his cuffs on Hannibal's wrists as the older officer made quite the scene of reviewing the camera to determine the video had been erased. He then waved for his partner to release Hannibal. Clarice rushed to his side.

The officers turned to the perpetrator still wedged, terrified in the corner of the stairwell and helped the young man to his feet.

"We'll bring him back to the office and explain the situation to the doctor. She's gonna kill him."

Clarice was effusive in her appreciation, "Thanks, officers. We're grateful for sensitivity and your understanding."

"Not at all, we'll get this kid away from your husband before he tears him apart."

The older officer nodded to Hannibal, "You're a tenacious man, Doctor Lecter. I can appreciate your position. If it were my wife…"

Hannibal nodded to the officer, then, shifted his attention to the half-conscious and bleeding videographer.

Hannibal snarled as the young man passed, "If my wife were not pregnant and my child in need of a father, you would have experienced a more permanent outcome, my friend. Count yourself lucky that you hadn't viewed even one moment of that footage or I would have repaid your disrespect to Clarice by hooking my Harpy through the sockets of your eyes and removing the offensive organs. Consequences be damned!"

The officers walked with the young man, planning to return him to his aunt to meet her wrath. The younger partner spoke first.

"Did you hear what he said? That was some scary cold-blooded shit."

His partner responded, "The really scary thing is he would have done exactly what he said."

"Yeah, what the _fuck _were you_ thinking_?"

The older officer answered for the bleeding and obviously overwhelmed offender, "He clearly wasn't thinking and the idiot's lucky to be alive so let's just get him back to that office before Lecter changes his mind. Did you feel his cuff? Was it there?"

"Yeah, what the heck was that- it was metal, I thought it might be a brace for his wrist."

"That was no wrist brace, that was the Harpy." He directed his comments to the young man, still shaking and bleeding. "Hey, Stupid Fuck do you know how lucky you are that Lecter wanted to pound your flesh instead of carve it or you'd be dead as hell by now."

The younger cop was obviously impressed, "Yeah, he's a jealous guy with a gorgeous wife and it was obvious he didn't want to share. I mean, if you'd seen his old lady in that position, he would have gutted you for sure. You just totally fucked with the wrong guy almost got yourself killed."

Dennis was shaking, unsure of who would kill him quicker, Hannibal Lecter or his aunt. He knew either way, the wrath would be extreme.

Clarice remained by her husband's side in the stairwell to give Hannibal a moment to compose himself. Standing slowly he rubbed the back of his head, sore from the impact with the wall.

Clarice took him by the arm and guided him from the stairwell. Though she had attempted at each turn to dissuade him, she was more than grateful he intervened. The pair didn't speak until they reached the market to purchase the supplies for the evening's dinner.

"H…maybe tonight's not such a good night. Maybe we should cancel."

"Nonsense, Clarice. Your friends have asked to celebrate the birth of our child."

"Still, we can do it another time."

"We are almost out of time, my Love. You are very close to delivery."

"I know, but…"

Clarice stopped in her tracks, unsure of whether or not to alert Hannibal.

_Christ…when he sees that…he's going to kill me…Hell, either way, he'll find out and he won't be pleased._

Clarice qualified, "H…promise not to get mad at me?"

"Of course, Clarice. What's the matter?"

She lifted the Tattler from the stand and held it in front of her husband.

Hannibal's narrowed as he surveyed the front page.

"It would seem we now know what spurred on young Dennis."

"Yeah, it sure looks that way."

"This will complicate the birth, Clarice. We have much to discuss."

"You're not mad at me, H…I know it's a little embarrassing."

"I'm certain the men will have much to say about it tonight, but no, Clarice. I'm not upset with you and I'm not embarrassed. I am proud to be the man you attend to, in any way you see fit."

Clarice put the paper back on the wire rack and walked away, arm and arm with her husband.

"I can't believe you're not upset."

"How can I be upset by that which we've already determined is true."

Clarice laughed at his response, glancing back at the photo. The entire front page featured Hannibal's face complete with the cream Clarice had placed on the tip of his nose. Emblazoned across the headline just one word.

_WHIPPED!_

At the bottom of the page the offer complicating the couple's life read:

_Top money paid for any and all photos relating to the birth. One million dollars for the first picture of the Hannibal junior! You may be one shutter click away from riches!_

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	119. Chapter 119

**GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER**

Hannibal had already served the antipasto and the pasta course, a home-made tagliatelle with bolognese sauce when Logan slapped his belly and leaned back in his chair.

"I swear to god, Hannibal, you have to be the best cook in the world."

Ardelia stiffened not that Logan noticed, though, Hannibal did and sought to smooth the situation.

"Logan, while I appreciate the vote of confidence, you have a far superior chef in your own home."

Logan ripped apart a crust of homemade bread, sopped it in the sauce on his plate and stuffed it in his mouth. He spoke even as the food rolled around in his mouth.

"Nah, I can't cook."

Clarice rolled her eyes, "Not you, you_ idiot_…he means _Ardelia_."

Hannibal continued, "I am well aware when it comes to the culinary arts, Ardelia is far superior. While I have mastered several techniques I am not as accomplished a pastry chef as she. Her culinary skills are far more well rounded than my own."

Logan nodded as he scooped a forkful of pasta in his mouth.

"Yeah Ardelia is a hell of a cook. She just doesn't cook…fancy."

Ardelia was steaming as Logan dug himself a bigger hole. She played it off gracefully, "You know, Logan…it's a good thing you are so good looking because honestly there are times I think it's about all you have going for you."

Logan leaned over and kissed Ardelia, "That and my awesome personality, right? Plus, I'm pretty handy with my weapon."

Ardelia laughed, "Well, you're improving, I'll give you that."

Graham chuckled and added, "Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about marksmanship anymore?"

Molly elbowed her husband in the ribs and gave him the, _don't–you-dare-say -another-word,_ look.

Clarice laughed out loud, "Don't worry, Molly. You're among friends; not to mention Will's right. We're not talking about marksmanship anymore, are we Dee?"

Ardelia smiled and nudged Logan who was now beaming, "No…no we're most definitely not!"

Smiling wryly, Hannibal moved around the room quietly and removed the plates and cutlery.

"Can I give you a hand, H?" Clarice asked as she reached a hand to touch his.

"Absolutely not, my Love…I'll have the next course out in a moment. Please enjoy your friends. I'll not be long."

Hannibal carried the last of the dishes into the kitchen and began to carve the pork earlier removed from its pan to rest on the cutting board. He could hear the conversations very clearly though he was certain no one other than Clarice, perhaps Barney, would be aware.

Pearsall joked, "My wife was scared to death to meet your husband, Clarice. Tell her honey…"

Pearsall's wife hedged, "Clint…_stop_."

Clarice could see she was embarrassed and wanted to set her mind at ease, "It's okay, you don't have to feel bad about it. H knows people are put off at first. It's only natural to be afraid when all you've heard are frightening things and you've never met him. He's not what people think."

Mrs. Pearsall nodded, "No he's not what I expected…not at all."

Mrs. Warden spoke on Hannibal's behalf, "He's the most wonderful man in the world…he worries about us all the time and every night when he cooks, he brings us dinner. We've never had anyone care about us. He saved my life you know."

Barney smiled, finding the dinner conversation in Hannibal's absence amusing. Aside from Clarice, he knew Hannibal best of all and understood that Hannibal hadn't changed. Why should he? Clarice accepted him for what he was. Barney sat back, listened and watched the others fawn. He didn't care to participate knowing that Hannibal would see right through it. Barney trusted Hannibal. To a point.

_He's wonderful all right. Right up until the time he puts the Harpy in your heart._

Hannibal returned carrying a tray of pink peppercorn encrusted pork with a vermouth reduction. In the other hand, the large serving platter held white sweet potatoes with rice wine and honey, sorghum glazed baby carrots. Nestled on the bend of his arm, a bowl of garlic and lemon sautéed broccolini.

"The food looks wonderful, Hannibal," Lloyd commented as he sat up straight, proud to be at the table and even more proud to be able to share it with the woman he was hoping would become his girlfriend.

Lena worked in forensics and had only been on the job at the FBI for two months. Having heard all about Hannibal and Clarice from her co-workers she felt left out every time someone shared a story or a personal anecdote. Never having met them she had nothing to add. When Lloyd invited her to be his date she was beside herself with excitement knowing she would finally meet Hannibal and Clarice.

"Thank you, Lloyd, you are very kind. Please, everyone, let us not stand on ceremony." Hannibal spoke softly as he took his seat.

Clarice assisted the Warden's with their portions then sent the serving platters along to her friends. She announced proudly, "Please help yourselves and enjoy."

As the guests passed the food around the table so that each person might portion the choices for themselves, Hannibal sat very pleased at the head of his table, Lord of his domain.

Suddenly, as if the evening had been going too well forcing Fate to intervene, the doorbell rang.

Hannibal stood casually as if he knew exactly who rang. "Please excuse me. I must see about the door."

Aware that no one else was expected to dinner Clarice voiced her concern, "H?"

Hannibal rubbed his hand across her back, smoothing her blouse as he settled her nerves. He bent to her ear and spoke softly, "I am of the idea we are receiving a house call, Clarice."

"_No_…you don't think…"

"What else am I to think, my Love? Everyone else we know is at table with us."

Clarice worried aloud, "H…what are you going to do if it's her?"

"I will be polite, Clarice. Though the young man is her kin, she is not _directly_ at fault."

Hannibal bowed to his guests and left the room. Quickly moving to the front door he opened it to find not only the doctor, but the offending nephew as well. Hannibal's eyes focused intensely on the woman, not wanting to look upon the young man whose life he wished to end.

The doctor was polite, her tone very formal as she stood beside her nephew, clearly shaking in his boots.

"Doctor Lecter, please excuse us…may we have a moment of your time?"

Hannibal's tone was neutral as he stood deadly still, watching and waiting.

"My apologies, Doctor, we are having a dinner party with several friends at the moment."

"It won't take long. My nephew would like to apologize to you and your wife."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed at the mention of the young man. "There is no apology necessary as none will suffice."

The doctor was shocked at Hannibal's attitude. She had been under the impression both Hannibal and Clarice agreed to the arrangement with the police. She was clearly disappointed being abruptly forced to consider otherwise.

"But…the police officer said you decided to let me handle the situation."

Hannibal spoke quite plainly, "Out of respect to you, _my wife_ decided it would be best if the situation were not made public."

The doctor looked at Hannibal, confused as she pursued the thought, "I am to conclude that it was not a mutual decision?"

Though he could see she was clearly disturbed, Hannibal was unconcerned with the woman's feelings. He shifted his laser-like gaze to the nephew, blinked once as if forcing himself to disconnect his rage for the young man before returning to attend the woman.

Showing no emotion with his tone he replied simply, "It was not."

Curiosity getting the better of her, she asked the question that was so painfully obvious it needn't have been posed.

"If you don't mind me asking, Doctor Lecter…how might you have handled it?"

"If I am being honest, I was quite distraught at the time and not at all myself, therefore, had I handled it in the manner of my choice my Harpy would have left my sleeve and your nephew would not be standing beside you."

A bit angry, she asserted, "If that were the case it is quite likely you would have been dining in prison this evening."

"That is no matter as I have dined in prison before. You on the other hand would have been dining alone this evening, Doctor."

The doctor was so stricken with her own discomfort as she stood quietly on the step beside her nephew that she could not sense the smell of fear seeping from the panic-stricken young man. Hannibal however, was choking from the invasive odor emanating from the pair.

Though it offended him to be in the young man's presence, Hannibal opened the door widely and allowed them entrance.

"Forgive my rudeness, please come in. I will notify Clarice of your wish to speak with her. Please excuse the fact that I will not be joining you. Though I will not presume to speak for Clarice, I have no desire to participate in this discussion. As I stated earlier, I cannot excuse that which is not excusable."

Hannibal led the pair into the family room, directing them to sit.

"Clarice will be with you directly. After your conversation if you would like to join us for dinner, you are more than welcome."

"Before you leave," the contrite woman spoke very softly, "Doctor Lecter I absolutely understand your position and don't blame you at all for your anger. I know there is no way I can apologize enough for this situation…I promise you, when your wife delivers your son, it will be in the utmost privacy."

Up to that point Hannibal was the epitome of self-control but the moment his wife's privacy was mentioned his blood began to boil.

Hannibal's presence filled the doorway formidable in his anger. His eyes flashed crimson as he stalked toward the pair hissing his response through his clenched jaw.

"That is a certainty as I will no longer leave that fact to chance. My wife will deliver our child in the utmost privacy because neither you nor your nephew will have a hand in it. My son will be delivered in _this_ home, by _my_ hand."

Hannibal turned from the pair and exited the room. Not waiting for a response instead he left the woman and her nephew standing slack jawed in the center of the room.

Hannibal returned to the dining room and quickly made his apologies.

"Forgive me, my friends. Clarice and I had a bit of a situation today, the remnants of which are being dealt with as we speak."

Clarice was amazed, "She really is here?"

Hannibal shook his head, "Not she, Clarice…_they_."

"They?" Clarice quickly processed the situation, her eyes opening wide at the realization, "No fucking way! She did not bring that little bastard here!"

"What little bastard?" Ardelia asked with genuine curiosity.

Clarice answered, still incredulous at the thought, "Her nephew…my doctor brought her nephew here." Clarice's face suddenly flashed fear, "God, H…you didn't hurt him did you?"

"Not _physically_, Clarice."

Pearsall raised an eyebrow. "Why would your doctor show up and bring her nephew with her? Especially this time of night?"

Clarice was absolutely enraged, "Because H caught the little bastard trying to videotape my examination. I guess she wants him to apologize."

Hannibal very calmly interjected, "Not _trying _Clarice, he succeeded. I however, would not stand for the disrespect. Though I deferred to my wife to decide the course of action, if it were up to me, I would have gutted him where he stood."

Barney mused, "Then I guess it's a good thing you let Clarice handle it. I'm not used to seeing you in prison scrubs anymore, Doc."

Helpful as always, Logan chimed in, "Hey, why don't we just take the little shit in the back yard and throw him a quick beating. That'll teach him to spy on women!"

"Nobody's beating anyone, at least not again. I'll go talk to them. Give me a hand, H."

"Not again?" Graham questioned.

Clarice proudly reported, "Hannibal kicked the shit out of the nosy little bugger this afternoon. Frankly I'm amazed he had the balls to show up here after the pounding he took."

Graham was amazed, "You hit him? With your fists?"

Hannibal replied, "Yes. Many, many times."

Graham was clearly amazed and continued, "Didn't you have the Harpy with you?"

Molly shot him another elbow, "What the hell is with you?"

Clarice was unfazed by Will's comment and added, "He always has the Harpy with him."

Pearsall's curiosity was piqued, "Always…like right now?"

Clarice moved to stand, "Always…right H?"

"Yes, my Love…always." Hannibal helped Clarice from her seat before continuing, "If you have need of me you have only to call my name. Rest assured, I will hear you."

"Don't hold dessert, H. I'll catch up when I get back."

"As you wish, my Love."

Pearsall waited until Clarice left the room before asking, "Do you really always have that knife on you?"

Hannibal looked up as if the question was rhetorical, "Yes…always."

Lloyd wondered aloud, "Why?"

Hannibal answered before putting a bite of food in his mouth.

"Why not? It is not an illegal weapon. It is merely a tool."

Mrs. Warden was not preoccupied, as the men seemed to be to discuss the knife instead looking at Hannibal with concern as she questioned, "What did you mean the nephew taped the examination? What kind of an examination?"

Certain that Hannibal was understandably disturbed by the sensitive nature of the situation Mr. Warden waved his hand, attempting to silence his wife. "Don't worry about that. Clarice will handle it. It's none of our business."

Hannibal reached for his food as he continued, "The ill-mannered young gentleman placed a camera in such a way as to record my wife's gynecological exam."

The elderly woman sat quietly as she considered what she had just heard.

"Did your wife have an internal exam?"

"Yes. That was the cause of my upset. I was forced to move quickly to assure the young man did not have the opportunity to view the material. Had he seen even one moment of that footage…"

For the first time all evening, Molly Graham actually related to Hannibal as a person and not a thing to be feared. She gasped, "Oh my god that's unbelievable! Did you notify the police?"

Hannibal tilted his head in order to make eye contact with Molly as he spoke, "Clarice believed it would be better not to press charges."

Lloyd's girlfriend, still star struck to be in Hannibal's presence timidly added, "That was really kind of Clarice. I don't think I would have been quite that generous."

"My wife is a rare and noble woman. I am often in awe of her. Her willingness to consider a relationship with me is proof of her capacity to forgive. As I would deny her nothing when she wanted the young man spared I did not argue the point."

The guests assembled all nodded in agreement. The room grew momentarily silent as they waited for Clarice to return.

Wanting desperately to see the harpy Pearsall gathered his nerve and spoke, "Hannibal, is it bad form to ask if I could see that weapon?"

Hannibal's eyes shone as he deftly reached into his sleeve and retracted the knife. He held it up and teased, "I'll show you _mine_ if you show me _yours_."

**UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER MY FRIENDS!**

**LH**


	120. Chapter 120

**THE DECISION**

The moment Clarice entered the family room the young man flinched. Karla walked up to Clarice and hugged her very tightly. Though it was a distinctly awkward situation, Clarice endured the unwanted embrace as the doctor gushed,

"Clarice, oh my God…I can't even tell you how ashamed and sorry I am."

After three obligatory pats on the woman's back Clarice pulled back and excused her doctor's apology.

"You don't have to be sorry, you didn't do anything wrong. I have to tell you though you're taking a hell of a chance bringing _him_ here. When Hannibal discovered what was happening with that camera he was _homicidal_ he was so angry."

The mortified doctor looked over at her nephew; his badly bruised and misshapen face was a veritable map of Hannibal's rage. She then faced Clarice.

"I know that _now_ but I honestly hadn't realized how upset Hannibal would still be. I thought he might have gotten it out of his system hitting Dennis. Not to mention what the officer said about Hannibal erasing the tape and getting rid of the evidence. I thought he must have agreed as well."

"No, H erased the tape because he didn't want anyone, not even the cops to watch the footage."

Clarice arched her spine and reached behind her rubbing away at the ache in the small of her back as she shifted from one foot to the other.

"Excuse me, I have to sit. As you know, the baby is getting lower every day."

Uncomfortable standing as the baby's position weighted her heavily Clarice crossed the room to sit in Hannibal's chair. The doctor and the nephew sat across from Clarice on the couch.

Clarice addressed the doctor, choosing as Hannibal did to continue to ignore the presence of the young man.

"Trust me when I say that the _last_ thing Hannibal did was agree with me. All H wants to do is kill your nephew."

The doctor laughed nervously, "You don't _really_ mean _kill _him."

"You do _know_ who my husband _is_ right? Yeah Karla, _I_ _really mean kill him_!"

The doctor shook her head, "I know who he is and I know what he's done. It's just that after meeting him, I find that so hard to believe."

Not having any reason to mince words Clarice spoke bluntly, "Yeah well, that's how he got away with it for so long."

Clarice glanced momentarily at the invasive nephew. By the look of him, she thought it obvious he was forced into this situation in an attempt for the doctor to save some measure of face.

_You really don't want to apologize do you?_

As they discussed Hannibal's anger there was obvious fear in the young man's eyes though Clarice saw little of penitence.

_So you think it's okay to spy on me? I'd love to punch the shit out of you, you piece of crap!_

Still uncomfortable, Clarice was forced to open her legs slightly allowing the weight of her son to drop forward, relieving the pressure on her bladder. She leaned back in the chair supporting the weight of the baby with her hands beneath her belly. She spoke slowly to make certain she was being clearly understood.

"Karla, to be truthful…_really_ truthful, that little shit is lucky he didn't have time to look at that footage or I doubt anyone could have stopped H."

Karla shook her head as if wicking the shame from it, "Hannibal was overreacting because my nephew doesn't even think he got anything _on_ tape. He says he forgot to hit the record button."

Clarice looked at the gullible aunt and blurted sarcastically, "Forgot to hit the record button, my ass! Trust me, I saw the tape before Hannibal erased it and the only thing beside my husband that's ever been more intimate with me than that camera is your speculum."

The woman was disturbed to have her nephew's excuse summarily dismissed. She was now being compelled to accept the deed and it was the last thing she wanted to do. She sought not to excuse, but to explain.

"It was a disrespectful, immature, distasteful and revolting. I'm just thankful he didn't see any of it…"

"No more than I am, _that's_ for sure." Clarice stated sarcastically.

Karla continued, "Dennis is only seventeen and obviously far too impulsive for his own good. He saw the article in the Tattler and, well you know what happened. It was stupid but look at the cuts and bruises on my nephew's face! Your husband's reaction was, well, it was…extreme."

Clarice balled her right hand and pounded it on the arm of the chair absolutely livid at the insinuation that Hannibal overreacted.

"_Extreme_?" Clarice pointed to the boy's battered face. "_That's_ what you get when Hannibal is _measuring _his response. _Dead _is what you get when his reaction is extreme and you have _no idea_ how close your nephew came. _I_ was _there _and you can bet that if I weren't pregnant…"

Clarice could see by the expression on her soon to be ex-doctor's face that she need not finish the sentence. She had made her point.

Karla was now forced to face the fact that her nephew had breached the privacy of her medical practice. She was compelled by the evidence to concede.

"Okay, maybe you're right, Clarice. Maybe your husband _was_ justified in reacting the way he did. That aside, I'm worried that he's _so_ angry he's going to stop you from receiving proper medical attention."

Incredulously shaking her head, Clarice questioned, "What are you _talking_ about? Hannibal would _never _deny me medical attention."

"That's not what he told me. He very plainly stated that _he's_ going to deliver your baby_ here in your home."_

Having been preoccupied with the thought that she would need to find another doctor, Clarice could barely contain her glee, "H said that? _Really_?"

"Yes, really! Clarice, I know he's your husband but he's a psychiatrist, not an obstetrician, so I know you wouldn't be foolish enough to allow Hannibal to deliver the baby. If he were to attempt it, he might wind up killing you and your son, so, we need to do whatever we can to help make this right before your baby is born. We can start with an apology."

The doctor waved the young man over.

As Clarice processed Karla's comments the intensity of her anger became so overwhelming she began to rise from the chair.

_Did that bitch just indirectly call Hannibal an incompetent physician?_

The doctor, unaware of Clarice's ire, prompted her nephew to what would probably have been a well-rehearsed and not at all genuine apology.

"Do you have anything you would like to say to Clarice?"

The young man stared at his feet, "Umm, Mrs. Lecter…I'm really sor…"

Clarice had reached her boiling point and held up a hand interrupting the worthless apology. Anger seared the words as they escaped from her throat.

"_Save it Junior,_ I'm not interested."

She then turned to the doctor and pointed an accusatory finger at Dennis, though she would not even spare him a glance.

"Look, I get that you want him to apologize and learn some sort of lesson here. The fact that he got the living crap kicked out of him by my sixty-year old husband should be an embarrassing enough lesson but since he dodged being _really_ punished for it he needs to quit while he's ahead."

Karla stood as well, not out of anger, but seeking to entreat Clarice.

"Don't you think the beating he took is punishment enough?"

"_What?_ He should be rotting in jail right now and he's sure as all hell goddamned lucky that he's still _breathing_. Nine months ago if Hannibal had seen what he saw today, he would have killed him without considering or caring about the consequences."

Karla moved closer to Clarice. "You say that as if you're proud of the fact that he's killed people."

As if there was an invisible pole measuring the distance between, Clarice stepped back toward the fireplace in the exact increments the doctor stepped forward. Adamant in the defense of her husband Clarice asserted.

"Well, hell, I'm not _ashamed _of it. And while we're on the subject of Hannibal, he isn't just a psychiatrist. He was an experienced emergency room physician and a gifted surgeon, meaning he's delivered plenty of babies and he can deliver this baby with his eyes closed."

The doctor overstepped, "I think you're blinded by love, Clarice, in more ways than one."

Clarice, now a bundle of too many hormones and too much baby had finally reached the limits of her patience. She gestured to Dennis, her eyes still fixed on Karla and challenged, "And I think you've been snowed by this little scumbag nephew of yours and I've had about all I'm willing to take of it, so you can take your little apology tour back on the fucking road! I'm done!"

Karla held up her hands in apology.

"That's not fair, Clarice…I'm just worried about you."

Clarice wasn't that easily swayed from the resentment brewing.

"Yeah well, you'd _better_ worry about me because I'm starting to approach my husband's anger and that's one thing you best believe you don't want to see. Hannibal _has_ an off- switch. _I_ _don't!_"

Enraged, Clarice turned away from the pair and paced by the large double doors trying to decide the best way to end the situation.

She was uncomfortable, edgy and a moment away from calling for Hannibal when the foolish and probably equally impatient young man made a costly mistake. His next move would make him the constant butt of the amusing anecdotes shared at FBI headquarters for years to come.

He spoke two words under his breath and though they were clearly directed at Hannibal, he made the deadly error of speaking them in front of Clarice.

Under his breath, just above a whisper he spoke. "_Fuck him_."

Clarice spun to face the insolent ass, "_What_ did you just say?"

The young man's aunt waved him back and quickly issued an indirect warning for her nephew to stop talking. Quickly.

"Nothing…he said _nothing_."

In the dining room, as the guests were passing the Harpy around the table and examining the elegant weapon as they chattered excitedly, Hannibal tilted his head slightly and continued to listen intently.

_I know anger is upon you my Love…steady yourself…you have our child to consider._

Clarice glared as she considered whether or not to call for her husband.

_I know you're hearing this H…I should have let you gut this waste of skin._

Deciding she still held some measure of control, though her heart was racing like a trip hammer, she challenged the foolishly disrespectful young man.

"_Did you just say fuck him_? After what _you_ _did_? _Fuck him?_" Clarice walked up to the young man and squared her shoulders facing him head on a she drove a finger into his chest.

"Yeah, tough guy in front of a pregnant woman you're brave but you had no balls at all in front of my husband, huh! You'll never be half the man my H is because the best part of you ran down your mama's leg you fucking waste of sperm! It's not fuck him… It's _fuck you_!"

In the dining room Hannibal tracked the progress of his weapon around the room. Just as Lloyd took it in his hands, the good doctor smiled.

_Brava, my brave Clarice._

The young man dropped his chin spilling his too long hair across his face. He then snapped his head quickly to whip his hair back and face Clarice. His earlier look of fear had shifted to one of ignorant defiance.

The young man puffed up his chest as if displaying plumage, fist tightly balled at his side and crowed,

"No, it _is_ fuck him and it's _fuck you too_! Acting like he's all big and bad and gonna kill someone and you acting like your crotch is made of fucking gold or something. So there was a camera…_big fucking deal_! Nobody would have wanted to see that old-ass shit _anyway_."

"Okay, you were right…anytime now, H…" Clarice spoke aloud to her husband as she drew her hand back and punched the young man square on the tip of his already broken nose.

Hannibal heard Clarice a split second before hearing the bone grinding and even before he heard young Dennis' yelp of pain.

"If you will excuse me, Clarice has just called for my assistance. Lloyd, if you don't mind…"

He reached across the table, grabbed his Harpy from Lloyd's now shaking hand and vaulted over his own chair, bolting from the room.

"Holy shit! He's gonna kill that fucking kid!" Logan kicked back his chair and jumped to his feet and shouted out in his best Michael Buffer impersonation, "Let's get ready to ruuummmble!" He then chased Hannibal out of the room.

Ardelia looked at the men, still sitting in their seats shocked into inaction.

"Okay, so no one else wants to say it but are you _kidding_ me? Hannibal Lecter just ran out of here flashing his fucking Harpy off to defend his pregnant wife and you're going to let _Logan_ handle this? I love him more than anything but _really_? _Logan_? He's not exactly a freaking brain trust!"

Graham looked at the other men and commented, "Ardelia's right, we can't very well let Logan represent Hannibal's friends, can we?"

"God forbid." Barney added as he stood.

Pearsall, and Graham quickly left their seats as well and followed.

Lloyd, not one for physical confrontations called after his friends, "Don't worry, guys. I'll hold down the fort here."

Hannibal appeared in the room almost before the young man could bring his hands to his face. Without questioning the situation he tackled the boy, knocking him to the ground and scrambled up the young man's chest using his knees to trap Dennis' once flailing arms to the ground pinning them at the bicep. The Harpy was now tracking along the terrified young man's throat.

Dennis' pride encouraged him to struggle until the moment the hooked point of the blade touched his flesh. He then rested flaccid in acceptance.

Having witnessed the takedown from across the hall the men excitedly burst into the room. Logan, of course, was the first to speak.

"Dude! That was the single gnarliest thing I've ever seen. Hannibal, you looked like a goddamned lion taking down a fucking hyena. That kid's arms and legs were flying everywhere!"

Karla rushed forward in an ill-conceived attempt to protect her nephew but was quickly detained by Pearsall. He wrapped his arms across her collarbone and around her shoulders effectively pulling her away from Hannibal.

"Don't…" he spoke softly into the ear of the terrified aunt, "…trust me you'll only make it worse. Nothing will happen to the kid while Clarice is here."

Hannibal's nostrils flared widely as his voice questioned with an edge of barely contained fury, "My Love?"

"Yeah, H?"

"I detect the scent of fresh blood on you."

Though no one else was surprised by the comment, Clarice saw the look of horror on the woman's face at Hannibal's admission. Ever proud of her husband's abilities she walked over to Hannibal, reached into the pocket she knew would contain a crisp linen handkerchief and wiped the sticky serum from her knuckles.

"No worries, H. Its his blood not mine."

"Did this young whelp disrespect you?"

"Something like that…I'll tell you about it later."

"No need…I heard _every word_."

Hannibal now directed his attention to the young man splayed out beneath him. He leaned low and hissed so close to Dennis' face that the young man could feel the heat of Hannibal's breath.

"Though my wife's _crotch_ as you so indelicately referred, is not _ass-old_, nor I assure you, made of gold, it is quite remarkable and extremely precious to me. As such, I have no desire to share. If not for the company of my friends and the presence of your aunt, I would be dining on your liver this evening. But as it happens, I have already eaten and your offensive organ has been tainted by the jaundice of cowardice. Still, I would dearly love to wet this blade…"

Graham, ever the ambassador, stepped closer to Hannibal holding his hands out in a non-threatening manner. He spoke very quietly as he approached.

"Hannibal?"

Although Hannibal addressed Graham, he did not take his blazing maroon eyes from the offender. The young man's head was twisted at an unnatural angle to avoid the intensity of Hannibal's unusual eyes.

Hannibal's chest heaved as he allowed the free flow of long missed adrenalin to surge through his body electrifying his muscles and nerve endings. He made no effort to moderate the dispersal.

"Yes, Will?"

Graham was now standing directly beside the pair. He tipped his body slightly to speak to Hannibal in a very quiet tone.

"So…ever been fishing?"

Hannibal clenched the metallic handle, warm from contact and dragged the flat of the Harpy along the boy's cheek. He breathed deeply, ingesting the young man's panic even as he relished the feel of the blade edging across Dennis' swollen, discolored flesh.

_I have merely to angle my hand another few degrees...better still, I could rip your insolent flesh from your empty skull with my teeth…_

Imagining the feel of warm flesh being pierced by his teeth, salivating as his sense memory tasted the warm metallic blood flooding his mouth, Hannibal's eyes rolled for a moment. Blinking once as he returned to the present his voice was cold as a grave as he spoke the answer to Graham's question.

"In my youth, yes."

Graham's tone was warm and kindly as he offered, "Well then, you know you're supposed to toss the little ones back, don't you?"

Sounding more like a young boy than a man with a knife to another's throat Hannibal muttered, "I don't want to."

Barney moved closer, supporting Graham's effort not only with his physical presence but his deep, calming voice, "Maybe you _ought_ to let him go. Looks like you already made your point, Hannibal."

Logan laughed as he joined, "Yeah, he made his point all right…all over that kid's face!"

Clarice walked over, bent just slightly and placed her palm on the center of Hannibal's back, resting it between her precious husband's shoulder blades. The love in her voice filled his heart as she spoke.

"C'mon, H…it's okay, baby…I'm okay…it's time to get up."

Calming slowly, Hannibal centered his knee on the young man's chest and stood from it, pressing the joint into the boy's diaphragm and forcing the air from his lungs.

Pearsall moved with the aunt toward the young man and suggested quietly, "Maybe it's time for you to take your nephew home."

The woman spoke with a shaky voice, "Maybe you're right." She then looked over her shoulder to Clarice and suggested hopefully, "Clarice…we'll talk?"

"No…no we won't." Clarice turned to Pearsall. "Hey, Clint…can you see them out? I want to sit with Hannibal for a minute. He and I have to talk."

Clint nodded, "Sure, Clarice…no problem."

Will Graham needed no invitation to leave. "Okay, Clarice, it looks like you've got this in hand so I'll go back and join the others."

"Thanks, Will.

Clint began to follow Will as he prepared to see the pair out.

Barney helped Dennis to stand and ushered him along with Pearsall and the aunt. Before exiting himself he stopped when he realized that Logan was still in the room.

Ever the keel, Barney turned to face the lagging man giving him a deadpan stare.

"_Really, guy_? What about Clarice wanting to talk with Hannibal involves you?"

Logan ran up to Barney and said barely containing his eagerness, "You're right…let's go back and tell the others. Hell! They have no idea what happened! Bowmeister's gonna be so upset he missed the whole thing. Hurry, Barney you know Clint and Will won't tell it right!"

Logan pushed and pulled Barney from the room, Logan looked more like an excited schoolboy with a secret to share than an agent of the FBI.

Barney rolled his eyes.

_God, kill me now for having to put up with this freaking five year old._

Barney patiently shoved Logan from the room. He then turned and nodded, "Take all the time you two need. We'll all be in the dining room finishing that wonderful meal so there's really no need to rush."

Barney then pulled the large doors closed, providing needed privacy.

Hannibal was standing facing the fireplace with his back to both Clarice and the door.

"H?"

Hannibal didn't speak but instead extended his right arm behind him and reached his hand back to his wife.

Clarice rushed to him, took his hand and stood very quietly beside her husband. She leaned against his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. She took her other hand and placed it on his chest that she might assess his response to the incident. His heart was pounding and it gave her pause.

"H? Why?"

"Why what, my Love?"

"Why is your heart beating so fast? Why aren't you regulating it? I know you can."

"Because I wanted to feel it…all of it, Clarice."

"Why?"

"It is not often I am presented with a situation that raises that level of adrenalin."

Clarice nuzzled along Hannibal's neck searching with her lips kissing just beneath his ear. She spoke just before drawing his earlobe into her mouth and sucking gently.

"It excites you…that rush of adrenalin?"

Hannibal craned his neck, allowing Clarice access. He gathered her against him and whispered huskily, "No, my Love, _you_ excite me. It…_pleases _me."

Clarice pulled slightly away and led Hannibal to the sofa. He sat beside his wife as she held him, as she had each and every time his adrenalin raced within.

Hannibal was certain she could feel the slight tremor of his body as he sought calm.

Clarice rested her head on his chest comforted by the strong beat of his heart. She spoke directly, knowing that in Hannibal's current state he wouldn't suffer ambiguity.

"H? The doctor said you told her you would be delivering the baby yourself…here…at home. Did you tell her that?"

Hannibal pulled her close and placed his palms on her belly.

"Yes, I did."

Wanting confirmation she continued, attempting to hide the hope in her voice, "Did you _mean_ it, H?"

Kissing the top of her head as he continued to smooth his palms over her belly he questioned, "Do you know me to say things I do not mean, Clarice?"

She continued cautiously, not wanting to get her hopes up if Karla misunderstood her husband's intentions and relayed inaccurate information.

"No, but when I asked originally if you would deliver our baby, you refused."

"That was before I considered that there could be no one who would care more for what happened to you and this child than myself. I chanced to trust another to care for the most important thing in my life, you and our child, Clarice. I will never leave your care to chance again."

Hannibal gathered his wife even closer in his arms and spoke very tenderly, the lush comfort of his voice embracing her as much as his arms. Very delicately, he offered his wife a way out of the situation should she not agree.

"If you are uncertain or unsure to have me deliver our child, my Love, do not be afraid to tell me. Your privacy is important to me, but your comfort as you deliver our son must supersede all concerns, my intellectual vanity and paternal pride included. If you have any misgivings do not shy from them. Please, speak them plainly and I will defer to your wishes. We have time yet to search for another physician."

Clarice sat up, wanting, no needing to see her husband's eyes to know his intention. She reached up and cradled his face very gently in her cupped hands.

Seeing that Hannibal's gaze was as intense as her feelings, Clarice asserted with all the confidence in her power, "I've only ever wanted you, H. You know I don't want another physician…I've never wanted another physician. I want you to deliver our child."

"Thank you, Clarice…thank you."

Hannibal lifted Clarice's face to his and searched her lips, indulging in a prolonged kiss. Clarice parted his lips gently with her tongue, pursuing his mouth very lovingly. Hannibal's heart, still injected with adrenalin, surged. He grasped his wife and advanced the tender caress of her lips with a clutching, passion of his own. His hands began to move, settling on her hips as he pulled her to him. Suddenly the intrusion of thought as a curtain of doubt emerged.

_Explain…she may yet change her mind._

This thought crossed his mind quickly, yet caused him to reassess the situation. He released his wife.

"This will be a very intimate experience, Clarice. You will be feeling very vulnerable and in a great deal of pain, as such, there is a level of trust necessary. At that moment, I will be your husband, but I will also be your physician, therefore, you must have full confidence in my abilities. If you have any hesitation or objections at all I need to know it now. Childbirth is a natural process but it is also fraught with many unknowns. You will be entrusting me with your own life and the life of our child. My Love…there must be no doubt."

Clarice looked deeply into her husband's eyes. His love was intense, dizzying, and she felt as if she were falling into the blackness of his pupils, flying like flaming fireflies swirling down to the center of him. Only she knew his heart.

"There's no one I trust more with my life than you, H…there is no doubt."

"Then it is decided? The boy will be born here. By my hand."

"Yeah, H…it's decided."

Hannibal was obviously touched. He took his wife's hands in his and knelt before her.

"I promise you, Clarice. There is no woman who has ever lived that has ever been more attended to by her husband in childbirth than I will attend to you."

Clarice reached up and slipped her arms around his neck pulling her to him and kissing him tenderly, "I know, H…I know."

Clarice again reached beneath her belly attempting to alleviate her discomfort. The baby was beginning to drop and the aching pressure growing low in her pelvis was becoming very uncomfortable.

Hannibal escorted his wife back to their guests and began to serve the dessert course. Now again preoccupied with his duties as host, he removed himself from the agitation of the unwanted guests, and concentrated on the friends who had come to celebrate the upcoming birth.

As the guests enjoyed the repast, Hannibal concentrated as he searched the banks of knowledge long dormant. He listened to the conversations at table even as he processed through his massive memory reviewing the knowledge and skills needed to oversee the birth of his child.

The baby sinking low in her pelvis caused Clarice to flinch for a moment as she experienced a very intense and personal pain deep within. Though she drew no attention to it, she made a note of the time in the event a pattern developed.

As if sensing the pain, Hannibal's eyes immediately shifted to Clarice.

_He can smell the fear…the worry…calm down…it's nothing._

She mouthed the words, _I'm okay, H…I'm okay._

Satisfied by her assurance, Hannibal proceeded organizing his thoughts. He was confident in his skill set and was fully at ease in his decision. The contented father continued to enjoy the evening, His calm would soon be replaced by swift and immediate action, but for now, he remained completely unaware of just how soon his skills would indeed be tested.

**Author's note: My thanks to those who have stayed with my story for so very long and to all of my fan fic friends. Please know how much I appreciate your dedication. To those who have reviewed- you have fueled my writing and have driven the story in directions even I hadn't predicted. **

**To those who have added either myself, or my story to their favorite list please know that it is a compliment I don't take lightly. It truly humbles me and adds to my life in ways I hadn't ****considered possible.**

**Thank you so much.**

**UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER MY FRIENDS,**

**LH**


	121. Chapter 121

**THE GIFT**

After Hannibal and Clarice escorted the Warden's home, Clarice planned to meet with the remaining women in the formal living room. Each of her friends had covertly purchased gifts for the baby and all scurried about setting them up as Hannibal and Clarice escorted their elderly neighbors next door.

"It's so nice of you to walk us home after the doctor and that awful boy left. What he did so was so disgusting I think you should have called the police on him," Mrs. Warden suggested as she attempted to stall her palsy long enough to slot the key in the lock.

Her husband, steady but impatient, took the key from her hand. As he unlocked and opened the door the old man blurted, "I think our good friend Hannibal has had enough of the police, Dear."

Clarice not only laughed at the thinly veiled reference to Hannibal's past incarceration, she had no problem reinforcing the idea.

"That's true, my husband stays as far away as he can from law enforcement."

She turned to her husband and playfully sought confirmation, "Right, H?"

Hannibal, unaffected by the teasing went about the business of checking the security of the home and graciously played along, "That is a not and accurate statement, Clarice. As an FBI agent you were a member of law enforcement and I definitely wanted anything _but _distance from _you_."

Clarice slapped him playfully, "Don't be such a wise ass, H."

"Clarice Sweetie? Did you really hit that boy?" Mrs. Warden questioned as she opened a large pill organizer preparing to take her evening medication.

Clarice turned, surprised, "Hit what boy, _Hannibal?_"

"No my dear, _everyone_ smacks their husband from time to time just to keep them in line. I was referring to that rotten boy this evening…the nephew of your doctor."

Bracing herself for the reprimand she assumed was forthcoming based on her distinctly un-ladylike behavior Clarice answered, "Yes…I'm ashamed to say, pregnant and all, that I punched that little bastard right in the face."

Mrs. Warden paused before swallowing several pills and, half-filled glass in hand, declared, "Good girl! If I were ten years younger I would have beaten that boy with a stick, the little devil."

Clarice laughed as she helped put the neatly packaged food away and settle their elderly neighbors. "I believe you would have, Mrs. Warden!"

With Clarice briefly detained the female conspirators had all the time they needed though they rushed about with baby presents and set up the mini-party. It also afforded the men a few moments to plan their own surprise.

Upon returning home, Clarice walked into the living room and was happily surprised by the impromptu baby shower. For the next hour the women would be huddled, all laughing and cooing at the tiny clothing and miniature shoes.

Although Clarice loved their compound in Argentina she was thrilled to be home in the U.S. during the last term of her pregnancy among women who seemed to be equally excited to be sharing this special time with her. She was content to be surrounded by friends. Especially Ardelia.

Hannibal joined the men in the family room, not with the same sense of community as his wife, but one born more of obligation. Clarice had female friends, each of whom had a male partner and as Clarice's partner, Hannibal was duty-bound to entertain. While the women planned the baby shower, the men planned a ritual of their own.

Hannibal entered the room and was equally surprised to see each of the men sitting in various places around the room reading copies of the Tattler wide open and prominently displaying Hannibal's face and the headline, WHIPPED.

Hannibal rolled his eyes briefly then began to clap his hands soundly, "I must admit I was expecting some mention, but this…well, this was truly inspired, my friends."

Each of the men folded their papers and stacked them on the coffee table. The friends continued laughing as they circled the table, approached Hannibal one by one, and slapped him heartily on the back.

Graham now comfortable in Hannibal's presence spoke casually.

"Hey, I don't know how you all feel about that photo or the rest of the pictures in the spread, but if a lady as lovely as Clarice was kissing whipped cream off my face…well, I'd be damned proud! Damned proud!"

Each of the men added their own take on Hannibal and Clarice and how they would or wouldn't feel about the publicity. Barney was the only one who didn't join in the banter. He looked at Hannibal, the perfect host, the picture of calm self-control and imagined Hannibal's skin crawling with discomfort.

_This must be pure torture for you my friend._

As the fawning continued for several minutes Barney was convinced he was the only one in the room who really approached any true grasp of Hannibal. Well, as much of a grasp as the good doctor allowed anyway. Being Hannibal's ex-keeper he watched with rapt attention. Barney had often felt they had a _kind_ of friendship. At least what level of friendship Hannibal granted or was capable of.

_I bet you really want to wet that blade right about now, don't you my friend!_

Not that Barney didn't believe Hannibal could approach the _emotion_ necessary to have friends he just understood that the doctor didn't seem to have that _need_. Traditional male bonding was not essential to him. To point of fact, he didn't seem to have the need for _any_ bonding.

Before Clarice Starling, Hannibal Lecter was a closed system, fully self-sustaining and not in need of interaction on any level with anyone or anything else. Therefore, with the obvious exception of Hannibal's relationship with Clarice, Barney saw no reason to believe the good doctor had changed at all. He killed when he wanted to kill. If he didn't kill it was by his choice alone.

_Everyone was so terrified that you were going to slice open that stupid boy. You goddamned genius! You're the ultimate puppet master aren't you with all your so-called friends dancing on strings around you. Everyone hanging on your every word and clamoring for your attention…I would love to know what you're thinking right now._

Barney had spent enough time with the man to realize that Hannibal had no intention of hurting young Dennis. He wondered if the man would own up to it and decided to call him on it.

Barney raised a glass, beckoning his friend's attention.

"So, Hannibal, let's be honest, you're among friends. If you wanted that boy dead your blade would have found its mark before you and he hit the ground. You felt like playing with the mouse a bit, did you?"

_Very good, Barney…not like the other poor dullards, are you?_

A wicked smile crossed Hannibal's lips as he revealed with a hint of mischief, "I saw no _harm_ in it."

Graham stood from his seat and turned in a circle as he surveyed the group to see if he was the only one shocked at the admission. He pointed a wavering if not accusatory finger as he questioned, "Wait a minute! You mean you had no intention of killing that kid?"

Checking out the fireplace and deciding he needed to add another log, Hannibal arched an eyebrow in true curiosity. "In my own home? Of course not, Will. Does that surprise you?"

Graham's mouth was still hanging open in shock. As if trying to pull the words from his body, he gestured wildly with his hands; his voice cracking a little as it rose in response, "_Hell, yes_ it surprises me."

Hannibal was amused by Will's incredulity. He moved to the large brass barrel where he kept the extra logs and pushed through searching for just the right one. Hannibal was astonished that his admission brought true shock. He could clearly see by the slack-jawed expressions of his guests that Will Graham wasn't the only person surprised by the declaration.

Curiosity demanded Hannibal pursue, "Really? Surprised in what way?"

Graham began pacing around the room waving his hands up and down noticeably disturbed as he ranted, "_Oh, I don't know_…maybe it's because you were sitting on his chest with hellfire in your eyes and a knife at his throat!"

Hannibal turned from Graham pulled an ideal piece of wood from the brass, and placed the newly chosen log on the fire. Clearly unaffected by Graham's tirade he spoke very calmly, "That wasn't hellfire you saw, my dear Will. It was simply the light-play within the unique structure, not to mention the color, of my eyes themselves. They appear to glow in low light, though it is merely an illusion my unique irises exhibit."

Pearsall leaned forward in his chair. He was looking off to one side with his eyes fixed on no particular object, obviously confused as he processed, "So, we_ didn't_ just talk you down from _killing_ that little shit?"

Hannibal brushed his palms one across the other as he revealed, "_Heaven's_ _no_. Do you honestly believe if I wanted someone dead there would be anything anyone could say or do that would dissuade me?"

Logan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet to that point tossed back the delicate glass of after dinner liqueur previously served and spoke adamantly, "Hell no! If you want 'um dead…they're dead. No question!"

Barney countered, "That's not true, Logan."

Though his head didn't turn, Hannibal's eyes quickly shifted sidelong to Barney.

Though conscious of Hannibal's perusal, Barney continued to add his own unique insight, "I think there is _one_ person who could stop him."

Lloyd was sitting at the end of the sofa and not so confident as the others. Proud to have something to offer he questioned as he spoke the name, "Clarice?"

Hannibal turned to the fireplace and stoked the fire sending embers floating around him. He did not flinch at the swirling sparks, but instead stared straight into the flames, mesmerized as he spoke, "That, Lloyd, would depend on the circumstances."

"What would depend on the circumstances?" Lloyd asked, curious.

A shadow crossed Hannibal's eyes as he spoke, "Though there is nothing I would deny my wife, there are circumstances where even Clarice could not stay my hand."

Noticing Hannibal's mood darken, the room grew silent for a moment.

_To protect you or our son, no matter who stood before me, or how many witnesses there were… you would not be able to stay my hand, my Love._

The darkness of thought and mood was interrupted suddenly as the women, still elated from talk of babies, entered.

Ardelia was the first to speak, "Okay, Logan…time to hit the road. It's getting late and Clarice needs sleep."

Logan complained, "Oh, come on…the conversation was just starting to get _good!_"

Ardelia wagged a finger, beckoning, "Logan...we are going home now and we are going to _bed_."

Logan's eyes brightened.

"_Bed?_ Well, hell when you put it _that_ way I guess it's time to blow this sausage-fest!" Logan jumped from the seat and all but ran from the room.

Barney stood and joined his date but not before addressing Logan, "You know you sure are one tacky white boy. I don't know how Ardelia puts up with you!"

Clarice laughed, "We all wonder about that Barney!"

Logan hugged Ardelia as they walked toward the door, leading the other guests.

"Like I said before, it's 'cuz of my awesome personality!"

Pearsall gathered his wife and laughed, "Yeah, well we know it's not your ASVAB scores that's for sure."

"What? I'm smart!"

"Yeah, you're as smart as Hannibal is tame!" Barney quipped.

Clarice linked with Hannibal's arm as they walked their guests to the door. "Who said I wanted a tame man, anyway? I like my old lion just the way he is."

Hannibal tilted his head just slightly, "_Old _lion, Clarice?"

"Age is only a number…but you can feel free to disprove that later, H," she flirted.

Hannibal kissed her cheek and whispered before releasing her, "I accept the challenge, my Love, therefore prepare for a long evening's _entertainment_."

"My heart is aflutter with anticipation, H."

Hannibal and Clarice escorted their guests to the door allowing each one by one to pay their respects. Several minutes passed before the last took their leave. Hannibal then guided his wife back to the family room. He would not sleep while a fire burned and Clarice wouldn't leave her husband's side so, as was their evening custom, they cuddled together on the sofa.

Hannibal listened as Clarice regaled him with anecdotes from the women's gathering describing the gifts the baby received. Suddenly, Hannibal had a thought.

"Clarice, I too have gifts for the baby. I have one for you as well if you will allow me a moment to retrieve them."

Clarice's eyes widened, "What did you do, H?"

"Not so much, Clarice. You are giving me the gift of a son. What little I have to offer pales in comparison, though I am hoping the thought behind it will serve."

Hannibal held up a hand and quickly dashed from the room. He returned a moment later carrying an extremely large and very high quality jointed teddy bear. The bear was wearing a deep maroon colored vest with gold accents with a gold chain dangling from the buttonhole of the garment. The bear was a least three feet tall allowing Hannibal to hide behind the stuffed gargantuan as he carried it into the room.

Clarice was laughing hysterically as Hannibal marched the massive toy bear through the air toward her. He placed it lightly on her lap.

"Our son's first toy, Clarice. Do you approve?"

"Oh my God, H. He's gorgeous! Where's he been hiding?"

"Tucked safely in the closet of my study. Do you approve?"

"Approve? He's absolutely stunning. I love him!"

Clarice noticed a golden chain dangling from the vest leading to the pocket. She tugged gently at the chain, releasing an antique gold pocket watch.

"H?"

"It has been in my family for many generations, Clarice. My mother stored many heirlooms in the mouth of a stuffed boar at our hunting lodge. I was able to retrieve them after the war. It is one of the few items I have from my father."

Clarice pressed on the top of the watch releasing the cover. Within the watch engraved in immaculate copperplate: **For my son Hannibal, With Love, Father.**

Clarice, overcome by the gesture, wiped at her spilling tears with the back of her hand.

"When did you have the time to have this engraved?"

Hannibal placed a hand on her thigh. His voice had a faraway quality to it as he revealed, "There was no need for me to have the watch engraved as that inscription has _always_ been there. _Remember_, my Love, I am the _eighth_ of my line with that name."

Clarice leaned around the bear toward Hannibal and kissed him briefly. She then sat the large stuffed animal on the couch on the other side of her to be closer to Hannibal. She cradled the watch gently in her palm, considering, "It's so very special, H. But why give the watch now?"

Hannibal closed the watch within her palm and clasped his hands lovingly around hers. His voice was thoughtful as was the unusually soft expression on his face.

"I am not a young man, Clarice. You may hold it in safe keeping for the boy, but I wanted to present it upon his birth. This is a very special time for me…for us. I find the need to make note of it."

Hannibal then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box neatly wrapped. The ribbon on the box was the same shade of maroon as the vest on the bear. Clarice put the watch back into the vest of the bear and took the small present in hand. She very slowly unwrapped the gift and found, nestled snug within the box, a small velvet case.

"H…"

Hannibal bent to kiss her hands. "Please, Clarice…indulge me."

Clarice opened the case, very slowly peaking within as she flipped the lid. Inside, a platinum heart shaped locket with the initials H & C engraved in filigree in the center. Surrounding the locket, alternating deep maroon rubies and diamonds.

Hannibal's lush baritone was filled with emotion, "Open it, my Love."

Clarice slipped her thumbnails along the joining of the edges. She very gently pried apart the sides to reveal the center of it. Clarice smiled when her eyes fell upon the contents.

"Oh, H…it's perfect…you're perfect."

"No, Clarice. It is you who is perfect."

Within the locket, a photograph of Hannibal and Clarice on their wedding day.

"That is a photo of the single most significant day of my adult life, Clarice. It was the day I found not only unconditional love, but also acceptance. You have accepted me as I am without any qualifications. No other woman alive would have had the intelligence, grace and strength to make the leap of faith needed to love me. You are magnificent and I am humbled that you chose to bless me with your love. Having you as my wife and the birth of my son is all the gift I will ever need in this world."

Clarice sat, staring at the locket, her eyes spilling over as the tears flowed unabated.

Hannibal removed the locket from the case, draped it around Clarice until the locket lighted upon her chest. Hannibal then placed tender kisses along her neck as he affixed the clasp.

"I love you, Clarice."

"H…you always say just the right thing. You always have the right words…I don't. I don't know what to say."

"You can tell me you love me as well, Clarice. That is enough. That will always be enough."

She covered the locket with her hand over her heart.

"I love you, H."

"Thank you, Clarice...from the bottom of my heart...thank you."

**Until the next chapter, my friends,**

**LH**


	122. Chapter 122

**NESTING**

Clarice woke first.

Not the unhurried stir to sentience, the emergent awareness as her head would rise and fall on her lover's chest. No, this awakening had the suddenness of lightning cracking across the sky. The pain so abrupt she clutched at her husband's bare chest, drawing blood.

Every instinct suddenly alerted Hannibal flipped from his back onto his knees, protecting his wife in his arms as he moved. Very quickly he assessed her condition using each one of his senses. His eyes checked the dilation of her pupils, his hands found her pulse point and tested her heart rate, his nostrils flared as he breathed deeply and inhaled.

_No Blood. Thank god…_

"Clarice?"

White-knuckled, she clutches at her husband's arms.

"H…oh…God…H…" breathless, she grasps her belly and doubles over slightly as she seeks to control her inhalations and exhalations.

"I have you, Clarice." Hannibal holds her close.

A moment. The pain passes.

There are several tense moments before Clarice finally gathers herself and sits upright to speak, "I'm…I'm okay, H…I had pain…"

Hannibal places his lips to her forehead to test her temperature, even while his hand continues to assess her heart rate. Satisfied she is in no immediate danger he sits back from his knees and runs his hands up and down her arms seeking to comfort them both.

Her breathing slowly returns to normal.

Concerned, Hannibal holds her shoulders gently as he questions, "Have you had many pains, Clarice? Is a pattern developing?"

Clarice drops her head, still anxious, "No, not yet. So far they are totally random."

Triage always one of his strengths Hannibal is in full physician mode as he continues to evaluate, "Single pains or are there more?"

Clarice is still a bit shaken, but, she makes an effort to consider his questions and answer thoroughly.

"Occasionally they come in pairs but not much after that."

"Duration?"

"Not long...a few seconds a minute, maybe. No more."

Hannibal is not pleased, "If you have been having pain, why did you not tell me?"

Confused by his upset Clarice sought an explanation she hoped might satisfy, "Don't be angry with me, H. I'd tell you if I thought I was in labor."

Sliding his palms down her arms, trilling his fingertips the length of her limb until he reached her hands, he slipped his fingers beneath, tickling her palms as he took her hands in his. Hannibal angled his head, seeking her eyes. Disturbed, his voice deepened and took on a somber tone.

"Clarice…"

Sorry to have upset him she questioned further, "Yeah, H?"

When she looked up and he had established eye contact he spoke deliberately, "I am disturbed to see you in pain but I am not angry. However, in future you must tell me if there is pain whether you believe you are in labor or not."

She held both his gaze and her belly protectively as she nodded, "I should…you're right."

Hannibal, still as naked as she, stood from the bed and walked toward the bathroom. His movements were powerful and purposeful as he informed, "I'm going to take a quick shower, then prepare a hot bath for you. While you are relaxing I will make arrangements for the birth. There is equipment I will need to have delivered to the home in order to insure a safe delivery. Remain in bed and rest. I'll be but a tick."

Clarice watched Hannibal walk across the room unclothed. She was spellbound, watching his muscles ripple, elegant and sleek as a lion.

_How is it he looks regal even when he is butt-naked? _

She smiled to herself. Feeling playful, she called after her husband.

"Hey, H…who would have thought all the way back when I sat on that crappy folding chair outside your cell, that we would one day marry, wake up naked together every morning and I'd be having your baby?"

Hannibal leaned into the bedroom from the master bath, only his head and bare torso showing and teased, "_I_ thought so. In point of fact, it was my _favorite_ thought at the time. I did, after all, have quite a bit of time on my hands, Clarice, and you were the only woman I had seen in years. It isn't as if Chilton was passing out Playboys to keep me sated. Though you had been and are still, my fondest fantasy."

Clarice reached beside her and grabbed a pillow, tossing it at her husband.

"_Playboys?_ Don't be such a wise-ass, H!"

Hannibal picked up the pillow and tossed it back at her.

"Heaven forbid, Clarice. You are far superior to any centerfold. _You_ don't have _staples_ in your navel." Hannibal teased just before he disappeared into the bathroom.

_If anyone knew...Silly Ass!_

Clarice mused as she curled up on their bed surrounded by a nest of blankets and pillows, closed her eyes and, within minutes, nodded off. Several minutes passed and suddenly, a slight pain stirred her awake.

She reached for Hannibal's pillow and hugged it tightly to her. Burying her face within the down filled support she breathed deeply waiting for the discomfort to pass. Comforted by his pillow she continued to inhale.

_Sandalwood and something else..._

Clarice smiled.

Hearing the shower turning off she called out loud enough to be heard through the closed door, "H! I know your scent, too!"

Hannibal returned from the bathroom wearing his robe. He was toweling off vigorously rubbing the fabric over his head as he spoke, "Of course you do, Clarice. You purchased a bottle for me at Christmas."

She responded proudly, "No, Silly…not your cologne…your _scent._"

Hannibal tilted his head to the side and considered her response.

"It doesn't surprise me. Lovers and family members often recognize the smell of one another. You though, have the potential for more as you are as much, if not more, a natural predator as I. You have merely neglected the training of those senses. Perhaps some day we will attend to that education. Come now, it is time you to bathe and relax."

Clarice left the pillow with the regret of leaving a lover.

Hannibal waited patiently for his wife to move across the mattress and leave their bed.

"Be careful, my Love. I don't wish your pain to return."

"I've got to get out of bed, H."

Hannibal flashed a wicked smile, "That is one of my fondest thoughts as well, Clarice."

"What, me getting out of bed?"

"No, you _never_ getting out of bed. With me by your side...by your front...by your back...by your..."

Clarice interrupted, "Don't be such…"

Hannibal approached quickly and put a finger up to her lips as he too interrupted, "…_a wise-ass_, Clarice?"

She grabbed his hand, kissed the finger covering her lips and in a voice rich with love she spoke barely above a whisper, "Yeah H, something like that."

Hannibal wrapped his arms around his wife and escorted her to the bathroom. He attended to Clarice by assisting her into the tub and assuring her comfort. He knelt beside the bath tub, lifted her chin and kissed her gently.

"Relax, my Love. Soon the child will be in your arms as you bathe, instead of within."

Clarice held his face with cupped hands.

"That's the most beautiful thought, H."

"Not as beautiful and you are, my Love."

Again, they kissed. The moment their lips parted, he stood and spoke, "If you have no further need of me, Clarice, I will be in my study ordering the necessary equipment. We must ensure the baby arrives safely."

Clarice sunk low in the tub. "I'm good, H. Go ahead and get what we need. Your son may not be as patient as you."

When he was certain she was comfortable and in no further need of his assistance, Hannibal turned started out of the room.

Clarice called for him, "H?"

Hannibal turned quickly, "Yes?"

Clarice had a wide smile on her face as she bubbled, "This is exciting, isn't it?"

Quite pleased, Hannibal granted a smile in return, "Yes…yes it is. Exceedingly so."

As his wife turned back to her bath, reached for the soap and began to scrub it across a little mesh ball, Hannibal slowly backed out of the room tilting his head to see every moment of her movement before he closed the door.

_Clarice you are perfection._

Upon leaving the bathroom Hannibal moved quickly to his study to begin ordering the equipment necessary for the birth. Settling behind his desk Hannibal turned on his computer, impatient as the machine loaded all of his preferences. He smiled when he discovered his newly installed wallpaper.

_Well, my Love, I much prefer this photo to the Tattler's front page offering._

There, as soon as the computer loaded fully, was one of the photos from the Tattler's spread. Clarice kissing the whipped cream from Hannibal's nose. The caption read, _Hannibal's Love._

_That must have been the section I could read from the paper tucked in young Dennis' back pocket. This is probably the first true thing ever printed in that rag of a paper. _

Hannibal allowed himself a moment with the photo, committing the details to his memory. He could feel, as he imagined himself at the precise instant, her lips warming the tip of his nose. He could sense her tongue as it touched lightly to retrieve the tiny dollop of cream.

_Would that the world saw it, I would be just as proud, my Love._

Within fifteen minutes Hannibal had rented a fetal monitor, defibrillator, infant warmer, phototherapy fiber optic pad in the event of jaundice, incubator and a birthing bed.

Checking his online list he added a portable anesthesia unit, portable ventilator, intravenous and medication trees and pumps, along with surgical lights. He finished with a portable suction unit and an oxygen delivery system.

Running through the lists in his mind he quickly contacted another medical supply company for gauze, abdominal pads, dressings, sterile water and saline. He arranged for immediate delivery.

He then contacted a moving and storage company to have the contents of one room packed, and moved to a secured facility for storage.

There was one problem, he was no longer a licensed physician and could not chance, as he had in the past, to visit the local hospital and help himself to the meds. No, he couldn't tempt fate to that extent. Not now. He would need assistance. Someone with experience and the certification to prescribe medication. Barney...no, Hannibal thought highly of him. Trusted him even, to an extent, but he did not want Barney to see Clarice in that state.

_Who could be trusted to have the sensitivity and the discretion._

Suddenly realization dawned. Hannibal did a brief search on his computer, found the number he sought and dialed the phone.

"Hello, this is Hannibal Lecter. Am I perhaps speaking to Nurse Lora?"

After an enjoyable and very successful conversation, now feeling quite prepared, Hannibal turned off the laptop to organize the home but not before indulging himself in one more protracted survey of the wallpaper.

_Thank you my Love…_

Hannibal then set out to choose the delivery room. Walking in and out of each room Hannibal needed to determine which space would be ideal for the delivery. He decided against using the baby's room wanting size and convenience. The original master suite would be perfect. It was a large room and had an attached bath. The furniture could be removed and put into storage. That would mean he could set up the delivery room that it be ready at a moment's notice.

He then moved to the bathroom to check on Clarice.

Hearing the slosh of the water and knowing Clarice was still in the tub, ever the gentleman, Hannibal knocked on the door before entering.

Clarice's voice was filled with anticipation and could be clearly heard from behind the door, "Come in, H…I'd love the company."

Hannibal entered the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub placing his hand on Clarice's bent knee. He sat for a few moments slowly stroking his thumb over her knee until suddenly, a revelation, "My Love, would you like me to turn on the water jets? It may relax you further."

Unlike her husband who was surveying her every move intently, somewhat distracted she spoke, "Could you? That would be great."

As she bathed uninhibited in his presence, Hannibal watched closely, mesmerized as Clarice twisted her hair into a chignon.

_Don't you feel eyes moving over you body, Clarice?_

"Without question, Clarice."

Hannibal stood and reached for the timer that activated the water jets for the tub. As he spun the dial he could clearly hear a shift within the tub.

_Water displacement._

Hearing the movement Hannibal turned quickly toward the sound in time to see Clarice turning slightly away, rolling onto her left side in order to allow the jets to hit her lower back. Hannibal rushed to her side and turned the dials within the tub to adjust the pressure and the angle of the spout to provide the most relief.

Clarice groaned her appreciation, "Oh, H…oh, that's great! Where have you been anyway?"

Hannibal was valuing the luscious line of Clarice's spine from the gentle slope of her regal neckline all the way down to the small of her back. He was considering the meeting of the muscles of her back as they gradually descended to her bottom when he was called back briefly for the answer, "Renting the necessary equipment we will need for the birth of the baby."

Clarice looked back over her shoulder, questioning, "Can you really do that? Rent all of that equipment?"

_Ah, an errant curl tumbling down as if a gift for me Clarice._

Hannibal brushed his fingertips across his wife's elegant shoulders, lifted the stray lock of hair and wrapped it gingerly around the chignon.

"Yes, of course. Many people provide family members with home care. As long as there is a medical professional overseeing the equipment, there isn't a problem procuring it. The birth suite will be fully installed by the end of the day tomorrow."

Clarice washed her body as her husband enjoyed his view. She was listening intently and contemplating the preparations.

"What will you do with the furniture already in whatever room you're choosing?"

"I've decided the original master suite will best suit our needs. I've placed a work order with a transport company, therefore, later today the movers will remove the furniture and place it in storage. The medical equipment will arrive tomorrow morning. We will be fully prepared in just over twenty-four hours therefore, it would be far more convenient if our little one would be cooperative."

Clarice laughed at the inference, "Sure, H…I'll do whatever I can from my end."

Hannibal paused for a moment, staring at Clarice, waiting. He still made no comment of the wallpaper Clarice installed on his computer.

Clarice looked up and saw the lingering gaze.

_Not going to make it easy are you, H? Okay, I'll work for it._

"H?" Clarice asked as she soaped up a mesh ball.

Breathing deeply, Hannibal took in not only the beauty of his bathing wife, but the scents swirling, enhanced by the steam of the bath. He paused just long enough to respond.

"My Love?"

Still she did not look up but instead moved to place the almond soap on the holder as she pursued, "You used your laptop?"

"Yes, Clarice."

"And?"

"And it is as true now as the moment I first saw you, Clarice. Though you were young and your gifts immature, all you are now and all that we would become was fully evident to me at that first meeting."

Clarice smiled.

Hannibal Lecter's contented wife handed him the nylon mesh bath sponge now bubbly with her soap.

Without another word passing between them, Clarice leaned forward and Hannibal, placing tender kisses along her neck and shoulders, lovingly washed her back.

Several minutes passed before Clarice turned into his arms. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, reached beneath his robe and pushed the plush fabric until it opened. Seductively, she continued to move her hands over his body until the robe slipped down his back, halting at the bend of his elbow.

Hannibal's heart pounded with anticipation.

_...and don't your eyes seek out the things you want?_

Understanding the gesture as an invitation, Hannibal stood, allowed the garment to drop to the Florentine tile floor and joined Clarice in the bath. He slipped beside his wife and lifted her body carefully as he rested against the back wall of the tub. Hannibal pulled Clarice into his arms so that her body rested atop the length of his own. Hannibal encircled his wife with his arms, his head resting over her shoulder so they cuddled, cheek to cheek. Hannibal reached around and cradled the baby even as he held his wife, palming her belly gently.

Husband and wife simply held each other. The deep love and peaceful familiarity between them so evident that Clarice felt the moment needed recognition, though her husband did not.

"H?"

Feeling it too, Hannibal understood. He valued the quiet closeness, clinging to it as much as he clung to his wife. He nuzzled his face against her neck, kissing and teasing at the flesh affectionately as he affirmed.

"There is no need, Clarice…I know…I know.

**Author's note:**

**Two individuals inspired some of the elements of the previous chapter and I wanted to note their contributions. **

**Thanks Major for guiding Mrs. Warden's comments with your review. **

**Special thanks to Lusting4Lecter (I am so jealous of that name!) for always being there to read the rough drafts and make suggestions. Also for helping me to choose the gifts Hannibal gave to Clarice. Thanks Twin!**

**Until the Next Chapter my Friends!**

**LH**


	123. Chapter 123

**VIGILANCE**

As the movers wrapped the furniture and removed it from the home, Hannibal kept very close watch shifting quietly in and out of each space supervising the situation by his presence alone. The workers were obviously making a very serious attempt to appear unconcerned by his surveillance but their efforts were mediocre at best.

Ever watchful, Hannibal was at the top of the staircase heedful of the activity below when he sensed his wife's approach. Without turning to face Clarice, he greeted, "Hello, my Love."

Clarice walked up behind her husband, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back. She held him lovingly in an attempt to ease into her suggestion, "Why don't you go play your piano or something, H?"

Hannibal leaned further on his forearms and stretched over the railing, watching two men as they paused to readjust their grip on a rather large armoire. He reached back and pulled Clarice alongside his body, kissing her cheek.

"I must be vigilant, Clarice. It would take but one ill placed camera. One million dollars is a very powerful motivator. If a photograph is to be published of our child, I will decide when and how it is to occur, not the National Tattler, no matter how much money they offer."

Hannibal took his wife by the hand and moved away from the staircase returning his focus to the men working in the original master suite. The moment he entered the room, the posture of the workers stiffened. Hannibal could smell their fear and stalked about the room enjoying the obvious power of his presence combined with the scent of terror leaking from the pores of the workers.

_Have you never felt a sudden rush of panic?_

Clarice followed him into the space and watched as the workers slowed their movement, attending to Hannibal's. Seeing that his presence was affecting the output of work and realizing they were paying the men by the hour, ever frugal, she stepped in.

"Okay, H…I'm calling it. Out! Go relax and work on your Bach. I've got a handle on this, you're freaking everyone out and nothing's getting done."

The men were exchanging confused glances, noticeably surprised at how confidently Clarice challenged Hannibal. They began to smile, nudging each other as their fear of the monster shifted to amusement at Clarice's obvious dominance over him.

Hannibal saw their reactions, sensed the shift in the scent and wasn't pleased. Not that he minded his wife asserting herself, but, that, combined with the cover of the Tattler made it appear as if he was, indeed, whipped. He voiced his displeasure with nothing more than an exasperated arch of his eyebrow and a word. Simply, "_Clarice_?"

Not picking up on his discomfort she persisted, "No excuses H…let me handle this. I know that scent is like crack to you."

Hannibal lowered his head and questioned, "_Crack,_ Clarice?"

"Don't be so thick, H…you know what I mean."

Too gentlemanly to reproach his wife in the company of strangers, Hannibal stood his ground, unmoving but silent.

_This is unseemly, my Love…not in the company of others…_

Seeing he had no intention of budging she looked closer.

"H?"

Hannibal turned away from his wife and moved nearer the door.

Finally recognizing he was distressed she was momentarily dismayed but then realized.

_Oh, God, I made him look like a little boy in front of a bunch of men the same week that picture hits the newsstands. Christ! Not cool, Clarice…Fix it!_

Seeking to soften the emasculating blow, Clarice walked over to her husband, placed a palm on his chest flirtatiously and leaned in close, whispering, "It's just like when we had the security system installed. They're all scared shitless and you're _enjoying_ it."

Hannibal, in full view of the workers who were looking but trying not to appear as such, sought to assert his manhood. He nuzzled against his wife's neck, kissed her aggressively and nibbled just behind her ear.

_Go ahead and watch closely my friends. She's mine._

A whisper in return as he continued to search her neck with his lips and teeth, "It isn't so much as I'menjoying it, Clarice…" a very brief pause as she felt his lips draw against her flesh and form a smile, "…all right, I'm enjoying it, but that doesn't make it any less prudent, does it, Clarice?"

She brushed her cheek against his and spoke softly, "Maybe not, but that's enough for one day, okay H?"

Not in agreement, he questioned further, "Clarice?'

"_H_…"the familiar appellation was her signal that she would not demean him, but would stand her ground in this.

"Very well, Clarice. If you wish it of me, I shall leave you to it."

"I do, H…Thanks for allowing me to handle this."

"As you know, my Love. There is nothing I will deny you. Least of all this simple request."

Bowing to her wishes, as he always would in matters that did not involve her personal safety, Hannibal pulled her even closer to him and cautioned, "Be watchful, my Love. I trust you but _only_ you."

Hannibal then kissed his wife passionately as the men pretended to avert their eyes and watched from their periphery.

Clarice touched a hand along the side of his face as they separated to illustrate her possession of him. He understood the gesture and touched her hand, holding it to his cheek for a moment.

"Enjoy, H…I'll let you know when we're finished here."

Further marking his territory, Hannibal very intimately brushed his fingertips down the gentle curve of his wife's back settling his hands just above her bottom. His thumbs continually stroked the small of her back as he spoke loud enough to be heard clearly, "I will be in the music room, my Love. I am but a whisper away."

The alpha male demonstration was not wasted on Clarice. Never shying from claiming Hannibal as well she leaned against him and brushed a kiss across his lips.

"Go, enjoy yourself, H. You worry too much, don't forget Clint is coming by later tomorrow night."

With regret, Hannibal released his wife. "Yes, that eases my mind."

Hannibal turned, but not before reassessing the air, seeking threat. Finding none, he allowed his wife her command and ceded control of the situation to her.

Clarice smiled, watching Hannibal look the workers over one more time.

_Not going willingly are you, H?_

She gripped his shoulders, spun him around and slapped him on his backside.

"Go on, get out of here, Handsome!"

Clarice watched her husband, amused at how he left the room less than willingly. She then turned to the workers, gauging their reactions. One man either more curious or brave than the rest turned to Clarice.

"Jesus, it's not that he's big but…hell, he's pretty intimidating."

Clarice shook her head, "Nah, he's a pussycat."

"So is a tiger but I wouldn't fuck with that either. Did he mean what he said about being a whisper away?"

Clarice leaned against the windowsill and nodded, "Yeah, pretty much. His hearing is practically super-human."

The man was unconvinced. "_Really_? I thought that was just one of the urban legends that have sprouted up about him."

Clarice accepted the implied challenge. Raising a finger for the workers to be quiet she directed the man to check the hallway. He returned, shaking his head.

"He's not out there. He'll never hear you."

Clarice smiled a knowing smile. "We'll see."

Knowing Hannibal had probably just gotten to the foot of the stairs, Clarice spoke confidently, "Hey, H...can you come here before you go to the piano? I need you."

The men were shaking their heads, mocking her. Surely such a quiet tone of voice would produce no results.

Suddenly, without a sound Hannibal appeared in the doorway standing uncommonly, unnervingly still. Not knowing whether his wife had been offended, the tone of his voice shrouded a threat, "Do you have need of me, Clarice?"

Clarice winked at her husband, qualifying her playful deceit, "I'm feeling a little light headed, H…can you get me some orange juice before you play?"

Hannibal lifted an eyebrow correctly assessing that he was currently on display for the assemblage, "_Who_ is playing _now_, Clarice?"

She ran a hand up his arm as she confessed, "Okay, you busted me. I was showing off that bat-like hearing of yours…still, I'd love some juice."

Hannibal forced a smile, "I'm happy to entertain you my Love. I'll return momentarily with your juice."

Clarice turned to the men when she was certain Hannibal was finally out of earshot she announced proudly, "See? I told you so."

The man nodded his concession repeatedly as his coworkers gathered, "That was possibly the scariest shit I've ever seen. What else can he do?"

"He can tell people by their scent, but that's one thing I'm sure as hell not asking him to demonstrate."

One of the other movers chimed in, "He can tell people by their scent? That's some wolf-type of shit right there."

"Yes, wolves too can identify by scent," Hannibal responded as he very furtively returned with a glass of freshly squeezed juice and handed it to Clarice.

"Thanks, H…I really appreciate it."

"Not at all, Clarice, I'm happy to have been of assistance." He turned toward the workers and nodded an acknowledgement, "Gentlemen."

The men nodded low almost bowing in deference to the man they now understood to be, in almost every way they could imagine, superior to them.

Hannibal left the room with far more confidence now that he had proven his predatory power, than he had previously though he was not pleased to have been put on such blatant exhibition.

Clarice did not intuit the displeasure but sensed the advantage this newly asserted dominance gave her husband and again winked as she flirted, "I'll catch you later, Big Guy."

"It's not as if I'd run, Clarice. Never from you."

Hannibal left the room, a bit disappointed but left his wife to the business of the home. Once the movers had taken their leave, Clarice went to the music room, stood outside the door and waited respectfully for her husband to acknowledge her presence. He told her often there was no need, but she believed it was discourteous to disturb his playing.

Hannibal finished the piece and paused so call for her, "Clarice, please come in. I have told you before, there is no need for you to wait outside the door. You are always welcome by my side. No matter the circumstances."

_No matter the circumstances? What does he mean by that?_

Concerned, Clarice entered the room and announced, "I know, H. I just wanted to tell you that everyone's gone."

Hannibal's response would reveal nothing of his mood, confounding her further.

"Yes, I heard the truck move away from the front of the house."

Unnerved by his ambivalence, Clarice walked to the piano and sat beside her husband on the bench.

"Yeah, they were really careful. No one wanted to break anything and have you come flying into the room. You totally freaked them all out."

"Initially, perhaps…"

Hannibal ran his fingers across the keys pressing lightly, though not with enough pressure to coax sound. Clarice noticed a faraway look in his eyes and was somewhat puzzled until Hannibal voiced the source of his upset. Clarice could do nothing but listen.

"…freak being the operative word in that sentence, is it not?"

Realizing her husband was distressed by the events previous her heart began to cave.

"H…please."

"Is that not what I did, Clarice? Perform for your pleasure? Did you enjoy putting me on display and parading my animalistic aptitudes out for the masses, Clarice?"

"It wasn't like that…_I'm_ not like that."

"It was exactly like that, Clarice. Did it give you some measure of esteem to let those around you know that you have tamed the once mighty beast? Must I now and forever be dragged about by my leash for the entertainment of strangers?"

Clarice's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding the despair she knew he could sense. She pulled at his shoulders attempting to turn her husband to her.

Hannibal was unmoved.

"Please, H, please tell me you're not angry with me about that are you...H… Please tell me you're just teasing me because I'll die if I think I really hurt you."

Hannibal said nothing.

The silence crushed her. She wrapped her arms around him and held him even as his hands remained on the keyboard. He stared straight ahead, processing.

"You _know_ I'm telling you the truth and you know how much I love you. You are everything to me…"

Hannibal breathed deeply, assessing her words.

_Don't lie to me or I'll know._

"H…that wasn't my intention…I'm just so proud. I want everyone to know what you're capable of and I want everyone to know you're mine."

Hannibal's voice rasped low, "I don't even_ know_ what I'm capable of anymore."

"H, have I hurt you that badly?"

Hannibal placed his palms flat on his thighs. He sat very still as he assessed his feelings. "Am I hurt? Not as such, though it was…undignified."

Clarice reached for her husband and wrapped her arms around him. She rested her head on his chest seeking his heartbeat for comfort. She spoke against his body hearing the echo of her voice within his core.

_H…hear me…_

"H, I love you. Nothing about you could ever be undignified and I wasn't parading you around like the freaking Elephant Man or something. I know it was stupid and I know it was immature but I was showing off. I'm really proud of you and I want people to know how special you are. Please, H…Say that you'll forgive me?"

Hannibal sat very still, thinking. Though he did not need or seek out the approval of others, his wife's opinion of him mattered. It disturbed him to know how affected he was to think she might have been, on some level, mocking him. As she held him, he understood it not to be true. She was proud of him. He was surprised at how much that idea pleased him. Hannibal raised his hands from the keys, reached for his wife and held her.

"Yes, of course my Love. I would forgive you anything. If your intention was affectionate how could I find offense in it?"

Clarice held her husband, almost afraid to let go. She kissed his chest, over and over again. Reaching up, she sought his neck and placed very tender kisses, searching the skin of his throat tickling his pulse point with her lips.

"Clarice?"

She clung to him, smoothing her hands all over his body seeking comfort. "Yes, H?"

"I find that…stimulating. If we are indeed alone, and your intention is such, I will be more than willing to oblige."

Clarice giggled at Hannibal's wording. He was always so formal that something as simple as asking if she wanted sex sounded more as if she were being presented with an engraved invitation than a simple call to coitus.

"I'd love to, H…afterward, could we go out for a bit. It's supposed to be a gorgeous night. We could go walk along the water and have dinner."

"That sounds lovely, Clarice."

As she did on occasion, but hadn't in quite some time, she playfully challenged, "I'll race you!"

Clarice, belly and all, bolted out of the room.

Hannibal moved from the piano bench and started after his wife. They met up at the foot of the stairs. Hannibal knew Clarice was incredibly competitive and wanted to win but was not as agile due to her condition has he. He could have scrambled past, but, considering her safety stayed behind her, chasing close behind.

"Though you have lost a step or two in our game, Clarice, your fitness considering the late stage of your pregnancy is quite impressive."

"Not passing me, H? Since when do you _let _me win?"

"I am not letting you win, I'm saving my energy for the bedroom, Clarice. It is far more important to me to impress you there, than here on the stairs. Not to mention, I'm rather enjoying the view!"

Hannibal reached for her backside, patting her gently, teasing.

Clarice, of course, reached the bedroom first and watched Hannibal, chest heaving more from anticipation than exertion, step into the room peeling his shirt from his body as he walked. He tossed it to the side and reached for his belt, unbuckling and whipping it from around him, discarding it as well.

"Come to me, my Love."

Clarice walked forward and looked him hungrily from head to toe and back again. She spoke her desire as he reached for his zipper, "That's a sight I'll never get tired of seeing."

"I most certainly hope you never do, Clarice."

The couple stood, one in front of the other and quickly removed each other's clothing. This was not the romantic, slow progress to foreplay they normally engaged in. There was nothing of tenderness in the tearing at fabric and the clutching at hooks and clasps.

Soon, they were on the bed. Impatient, they sought each other, neither wanting to wait for the other. Mouths covered flesh. Moans accompanied by grunts of effort and panting breaths, each gripping the thighs of the other. Each with their faces buried within tasting of their lover.

Hannibal's muscles tightened as he attempted to stay his pleasure, his wife was so close to hers. Clarice clutched at Hannibal's thighs even as he held on to hers.

Hannibal and Clarice, each knew exactly how to please the other. Hannibal was attentive and assertive. Clarice was loving and playful, she being as aggressive if not more at times than he though this time neither was patient. Each partner sought to please even as they pursued their own end.

The aroused husband pursued his wife's pleasure, forgetting his own for hers.

Colors swirled within his mind, his memory palace open now, airy as he filled it with sound. Musical scores he was now composing, combining with her soft gentle moans, echoed, soaring to the heights within. He rubbed his cheek against her thigh, wet from his attentions to release her scent further. Living only in that moment he breathed deeply, her scent rich, mingling with his, the perfume created now imprinting on his soul he added it to his mind, filling the spaces throughout.

_My Love…my life…_

Hannibal's passion for her overwhelming, Clarice's body began to tense causing her to release him from her lips in order to surrender her body to his.

Hannibal stayed with her, searching her flesh with his lips, his mouth, his tongue. He probed the tender parts of her, coaxing her body gently, encouraging the warmth to wash over her. As he sensed her rapture bloom, he enticed, "Give yourself to me, my Love."

She called his name as she slowly submitted to her lover.

"H…H…"

"More, my Love…I want more…"

"Oh, God…Hannibal…Hannibal…"

Clarice, overcome with her own passion gripped her husband's legs, biting down on the muscled flesh on the inside of his thigh. She held the sinews within her mouth as her body rocked against him. Her hips undulating as the waves of pleasure overtook her. She tensed, breathless as her whole being shuddered. Grasping at his body, trembling as she clutched for him, Clarice shook uncontrollably as she surrendered to his attention.

_You are mine, Clarice…only mine…_

Though she remained blissfully breathless, even as her body convulsed within, she again found his flesh.

Hannibal pulled in a long breath as she drew him in once again. He held her tightly, his fingertips digging into her flesh as he swayed with her, careful not to be invasive in his movements.

Clarice encouraged his flesh until he felt he would burst. "Clarice…my Clarice…"

His abdomen tightened as his breath quickened his body shaking with the beginnings of release. Soon his pleasure followed hers.

"H…I love you, H."

"I love you as well, Clarice."

They held each other gently and remained this way, each almost at the foot of the other, waiting for their breathing to align.

Slowly, the couple righted themselves in the bed, clinging still to their pleasure as they clung to one another.

Hannibal stroked his wife's hair, releasing the scent of her shampoo combined with their lovemaking. He breathed deeply, the scent of almonds and musk heavy in the air. Suddenly, the curtains whipped within the room, a breeze bringing with it confusion. Dread.

Hannibal sat up.

"Clarice? Are there other windows open in the home?"

"Yeah, H…All of the bedrooms. I wanted to let the spring weather in. The house has been closed up for too long."

Hannibal's nostrils flared as he searched the air.

"I fear you have let in more than the weather, my Love."

Hannibal leapt from the peace of his bed and stuffed his legs into his boxers.

"I am going down the hall to determine which room is being accessed from the outside. It is either the previous master suite or the bedroom meant for our future daughter. I think the latter, based on the easement the balcony provides."

Hannibal then slipped his trousers, walked back to the bed and ran his hand quickly under his pillow retrieving his Harpy.

"When the hell did that get there?" Clarice questioned, amazed.

"It is never far from me, least of all now that the Tattler has put a bounty on that photograph. It may be that we will be forced to chase off one or two hopeful shutterbugs, Clarice."

"_Chase off_ being the operative phrase in that sentence, H."

"Yes, absolutely, unless there is a need to protect. You are to lock the door behind me. Do not open it again no matter what you hear unless I direct you to do so. Your safety and that of our child is paramount. Do you agree with me, my Love?"

Clearly afraid for her husband, Clarice hesitated, "Can't I come help? I'll get my gun."

"The gun will remain in this room with you. If there were ever a case where I became incapacitated, you would need the weapon to protect yourself. Last resort only, Clarice. I understand that you are able to defend yourself and I am not insinuating by asking you to remain behind that you are in any way less than. I am concerned only for the welfare of the child."

Clarice nodded, "Okay…okay, H. But hurry. I'll be worried about you. Check it out and come back. Don't take any chances. I need a husband and this baby needs a Daddy."

Hannibal paused before closing the door. "Not to worry, my Love. There is not a thing in Heaven or on Earth that will keep me from either of you."

A moment later he was gone.

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	124. Chapter 124

**THE INTRUSION**

The moment Hannibal's bare feet hit the cool wooden floors of the hall he paused and searched the air for clues. His senses confirmed that he had in fact, been correct. The intruder had accessed the home through the balcony in the bedroom previously occupied by Mariyah.

As he was barefoot, Hannibal was certain he could approach undetected, therefore, he need only stay away from the center of the hallway to avoid being seen before he wished it. Sliding his back along the wall he reached the opening to the room and paused.

_Not on the balcony…you have not, as of yet, fully retreated? You are either very brave, or very foolish my friend. Perhaps both. If true, the distinct advantage would be mine._

Moving swiftly around the doorframe Hannibal appeared in the room before the intruder had any prior warning of his arrival.

There the man stood in the center of the space with no hint of fear in his eyes.

"So, Hannibal Lecter, I've gotta say I'm sure impressed. I didn't think you'd be this good! Hell, you caught me before I even got all the way into the room! Well, since I haven't touched anything how about we call this no harm, no foul?"

Hannibal took one step closer to the interloper. As his eyes maroon eyes simmered with rage he warned, "Though there has indeed been a foul committed as you are in my home uninvited, there is no harm as of yet..."

Hannibal's head inclined slightly as his eyes narrowed. He hissed his caution, "…however, the night is young."

The man, wearing what appeared to be a climber's harness and rigging, began to back up toward the rail extending a protective arm to ensure distance if Hannibal did indeed charge toward him. Hannibal stood his ground, glaring forward, nostrils flared.

_The scent of charcoal, sulfur, potassium nitrate, you have fired a weapon or set a charge recently. It may be you have a firearm. If I move toward you and your offense bests mine, you will be alone with my wife. No…I'm a patient man. I shall assess your abilities from a distance. _

The trespasser was surprised to find that Hannibal remained motionless.

"I was just about to leave. No need to see me out."

Hannibal took one step forward and clasped his hands before him. His voice was eerily calm as he offered, "Yes, it would be prudent to leave my home immediately without incident. Should you be foolish enough to return, I _will_ seek you out, I promise on the life of my wife and child that I will _find_ you and you may rest assured, I will _kill_ you."

The man had dark hair and eyes. Hannibal judged that he was a few years shy of thirty, a little on the shorter side but compact and well muscled.

Actually enjoying the thrill of being discovered the shortsighted intruder verbally probed Hannibal, poking at the wound he thought he had discovered.

"_Your _child? Are you _sure_? I mean you're a bit…advanced in age. Not to mention everyone says when you married Clarice she had you de-clawed and neutered like a house cat. She probably keeps you around to cook. Yeah, a piece of ass as hot as Clarice must have a _real _man on the side."

Hannibal lowered his head and took a second, very slow step forward. The moment his second foot aligned with the first, he spoke in a threatening tone, more a growl than anything conversational.

"Do you think me so unbalanced that your pathetic insults do me injury? Do you think yourself brave counting coo on the cannibal as it were? I see from the calloused hands and the well-worn equipment about your waist that you consider yourself a risk taker. Have you decided I am your Everest, my friend? Well, no matter as I am a bit of a risk taker as well, though I do not suggest you tempt me as you may find that you are not quite as fond of adrenalin as I. Should you mention my wife or question my son's parentage again or you will soon find out just how_ I_ achieve my sudden rush of that particular hormone."

The sound of Hannibal's voice raised the hairs on the back of the young man's neck causing the intrusive individual to begin weighing his options. Finding them wanting he backed up and without another word, sidestepped the rail, tightened the rope looping it through the karabiner and quickly rappelled to the ground. Standing now, outside both the home and the immediate reach of Hannibal, the man became emboldened. He called up to him, confident now that he had the safety of distance.

"Hey, Lecter! Give your wife a kiss from me. Maybe the next time I come, I'll bring the whipped cream and give her something to _kiss it_ _from_."

Hannibal the Cannibal, eyes glowing with fury, leaned over the rail and spoke with an icy calm that belied the fire raging in the center of his chest, "Do not test my resolve in this. Should you return, your life is forfeit."

As the man stepped into the shadows Hannibal Lecter inhaled deeply, memorizing the scent of the trespasser and the location of the retreat. Hannibal then secured the open rooms and returned to his bedroom.

Clarice, both palms and an ear pressed to the door, listened intently. She could hear the approach of someone and hoped it was indeed her husband, unharmed.

Hannibal was about to tap lightly on the door however, upon approach he detected from her scent that she was just on the other side. He placed his hand to the door and sensing her presence, spoke softly, "You may let me in, my Love. Our visitor has departed."

Clarice unlocked and opened the door widely, allowing her husband entry. When she confirmed for herself that Hannibal was uninjured she reacted with incredulity to the events as she perceived them.

"I could hear you talking to someone. _What the hell_, _H!_"

Hannibal walked around the room collecting the clothing he discarded so zealously not long before, "A young man has decided the financial reward the Tattler offered is worth the risk and attempted to access our home through our daughter's room."

Clarice followed her husband and questioned, "But he's gone, right? You scared him off."

"He is gone."

"Good. He's gone and you're safe so it's over." Clarice paused for a moment questioning his recent wording. "H? You keep saying our daughter's room. Why?"

Hannibal was processing the stimuli from the intruder as he spoke to his wife. He judged, based on the approaching weather and the wind direction that the scent trail, in referenced to his ability to track it, would last no more than another hour. Instead of revealing his disquiet he continued to speak judging correctly that the topic would ease his wife's distress.

Hannibal moved to the master bath, stripped and placed the clothing not requiring dry cleaning in the hamper. The remaining garments he folded neatly and stacked on top. He approached his wife and brushed his knuckles from her cheekbone to her jawline then brushed his thumb along her lips.

"Our son will need a sibling. I thought we decided to give young Hannibal the room closet to ours because with the balcony would be less than ideal for an impulsive boy, but more than appropriate for our future daughter."

Clarice picked up the clothing on the hamper and placed the pile in a laundry bag she designated for the cleaners and returned it to a hook in the linen closet. She then reached for a towel from the shelf and handed it to her husband.

"So you've decided we are having another child and it will be a girl? What if we do have another and it's a boy? Does he get the balcony?"

Hannibal took the towel and placed it on the warmer near the shower stall for easy access. He responded quickly, his answer leaving no room for discussion.

"No balcony. As I have stated previously, that room is for our daughter."

The pair continued to discuss the bedroom without acknowledging the intruder. Having had extensive experience on both sides of the law, neither spouse seemed overtly concerned that a possibly dangerous individual had just accessed their home.

Clarice sat on the edge of the whirlpool tub as Hannibal entered the shower stall. She questioned, "So, you intend to keep fathering children until you have a daughter?"

Hannibal answered as he spun the dial to adjust the temperature of the shower water. "Precisely. Is that prospect distasteful to you, Clarice?"

Allowing a moment to consider the thought she answered honestly, "No…I'd love a little girl but I've got our little guy to think about first so how about we not get ahead of ourselves okay?"

"Okie-dokie," he answered playfully as he leaned over and sought her lips.

The moment their lips parted, Clarice regrouped.

"So, baby stuff aside…this person? He's gone…for good?"

Hannibal opened the stall door, reached into the stream to assess the temperature and stepped into the shower.

"As he did not have photographic equipment with him at the time, I am assuming it was his intention to peruse the home and return. As a matter of fact, he announced as much."

Clarice questioned as her husband washed, "He had the balls to tell you he was coming back?"

"Not in as many words, but, yes, I believe he will return."

Continuing to interrogate she asked, "How old? What did he look like? Did he have a weapon?"

Hannibal opened the shower door, leaned out and smiled as he spoke, "My, Ex-Special Agent Starling, on the job again I see?"

Clarice laughed, "Don't be such a wise ass, H!"

Hannibal closed the door and began to soap his chest as he described, "Five foot six, muscular, not quite thirty, Caucasian I believe but that's hard to determine."

"Weapon?"

Rinsing, he assessed, "Based on his boldness I would assume so, though there was none visible. I did catch the scent of gunpowder, however."

Hannibal then opened the door once again, reached for his towel and stepped out onto the mat. He began to dry his body as Clarice watched.

"Gunpowder? Jesus, H…That _really_ changes things. What will you do if he comes back?"

Hannibal wrapped the towel around his waist and reached for Clarice. Settling his hands on his wife's hips Hannibal pulled her close and spoke softly, "If he returns, after being warned to stay away, he poses a threat to our family that I will not tolerate."

Clarice hugged him tightly, needing the security of his body as she asked, "And that means?"

Hannibal kissed her cheek, keeping his pressed against hers as he spoke, "That means, Clarice, this brazen individual has proven he will go to great lengths to achieve a financial reward at our expense. Factor in that he has shown no fear of approaching me or invading our home and I am forced to ask myself what is to stop him in the future from attempting to abduct our son?"

Clarice released her husband and stood in front of him, amazed at his statement.

"He wasn't afraid of you?"

Hannibal guided her to the bedroom and set about dressing himself.

"No. He had no fear of me whatever and that is…disconcerting."

Clarice sat down on the bed, staring at the floor in amazement.

"It's more than disconcerting, H…It's downright fucking unbelievable!"

Clarice looked up and noticed what her husband was wearing: a dark jogging suit with a black underarmor shirt. The unusual attire garnered the attention of Clarice.

"What? No Armani or Gucci?"

Hannibal reached for a black goretex windbreaker. "I would think that would make me stand out a bit which is the last thing I intend to do."

Seeing her husband's clothing and grasping his intention, the sudden realization that the man posed a viable threat had just begun to sink in. Clarice worried aloud, "Christ…Christ, H…what are you doing?"

Hannibal took his wife in his arms and spoke softly, seeking to comfort, "What would you have me do, Clarice?"

"Only if he comes back, H…" Clarice paused, running her hands over her belly protectively. "If he does…"

Concerned that speaking the words would in some way compromise his wife Hannibal interceded, "The question was rhetorical Clarice as we both understand what I will have to do if this person returns. You may rest assured I will not allow anyone to endanger our family. I have waited far too long and I will not risk your safety or that of our child under any circumstances."

"H, whatever happens it can't come back at you. If I have to watch them drag you off in chains again…if that mask is ever strapped to your face, I'll die…I'll just die!"

"I said he was fearless, my Love, I didn't say he was intelligent. Rest assured, if I am forced to take action it will be in a place and at time that will not reflect on me. No one will drag me from you. I will allow no one else will raise my son."

Clarice slipped her arms around her husband's neck and snuggled against his chest. "H…I don't feel like going out now."

He whispered supportively, "Not to worry, my Love. If you would rather stay in, that is exactly what we will do."

Hannibal rested his chin on the top of his wife's head. He was actually pleased that Clarice no longer wanted to leave the home this evening as this would give him an opportunity to track the transgressor.

Hannibal released his wife, and reached for his sneakers.

"I would be more than happy to pick up whatever you would like but you must activate the security system and promise not to answer the door to anyone, no matter how harmless they appear."

"I promise, H. Don't worry…I learned my lesson with Stuart Miggs. I'll call ahead for the food while you shower. Would you mind Indian, tonight?"

"I will have whatever you choose, my Love. You may order for me. Something spicy, perhaps."

Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed, slipped his feet quickly within the sneakers and bent to tie his laces. Seeing he was almost ready Clarice walked to the door.

"I'll go downstairs, get the menu and call from the kitchen. Come down when you're ready."

"Very well, Clarice."

Knowing the forecast included scattered showers later that evening he could not chance to go out while Clarice slept. The rain would lessen the scent and gifted as he was, Hannibal wouldn't be able to follow once the precipitation started.

Within minutes Hannibal appeared in the kitchen, eyes fiery with the excitement of the impending hunt. His enthusiasm was not wasted on his wife, though she did not share his obvious anticipation.

"Can you move around unseen? Even though it's getting dark, it's still early."

Hannibal zippered his jacket as he rejoined, "I can if I am careful not to make eye contact with bystanders."

Her tone was disappointed, mournful almost as she conceded, "Yeah I guess you'd better keep your eyes hidden. They make you stand out more than just a bit."

Hannibal returned, "I cannot cover my eyes, Clarice. You disposed of my contact lenses, remember?"

Clarice reached into the cabinet and opened a box of Sno-balls. Within the box a small plastic blister pack. She handed it to Hannibal.

"I kept a couple of pairs just in case we ever had to run. I knew that was the last place you ever look."

"That was very pragmatic, Clarice, and your choice of a hiding place was inspired."

Hannibal very quickly opened the package and inserted the contacts as Clarice put the box back on the shelf. She spoke closed the cabinet, pausing, hoping he would not detect deceit.

"The food won't be ready for another hour, H. The restaurant is a little backed up on orders tonight."

Hannibal angled his head slightly as he gently challenged, "_Backed up_ on orders? It is a Tuesday night, Clarice? Surely you can do better than that."

"Okay…Okay… I wanted to give you a little extra time to check around for that son of a bitch before it gets too late. I know you and if you don't have enough time now you'll go out when you think I'm asleep. I just thought I'd save you a late night."

Hannibal kissed her forehead. "That was very considerate of you, Clarice."

The concerned wife counseled, "You be careful, H. Track him, but if you find him you be sure to stay away from him. Under no circumstances are you to touch this guy. Only if he comes back, right?"

"It is not a matter of _if _I find him it is more a matter of _when_ I find him…"Hannibal then affirmed, "and you have my word, I will not engage the man unless he is foolish enough to return."

Clarice held the door, kissing her husband as he moved past her in the entryway.

"Keep an eye on the clock, H. I'd like to eat dinner before breakfast."

Hannibal turned on the stairs and faced the direction he knew the intruder fled. His nostrils flared. As he gathered in the scent he responded, "Not to worry, Clarice, I will be conscious of the time."

"Contacts in?"

"Contacts in."

"Cell phone?"

"In my pocket if you should need me."

"Okay, text me when you get to the restaurant. I want to know when you're through with that douchebag."

"Certainly."

As Hannibal turned to leave, Clarice grabbed his hand and pulled her to him. Resting her hands on his chest she smoothed her palms across his pectoral muscles. She continually patted him as she spoke, "H…What if something happens to you? What about the baby?"

Hannibal clutched her hands to him. "You must trust me when I say that there is nothing on earth or in heaven that will keep me from your side when our child is born, Clarice."

Clarice looked to her husband's eyes disappointed to have them shielded once again. She likened the brown contacts to the mask, both symbols of his bondage, though in different ways. She ran the back of her hand down his cheek more for her comfort than his.

Hannibal's intuition keen, he understood her discomfort. "Though the color has changed, I am still here, Clarice."

"I know, H…I just don't think of those contact lenses any differently than I think of that fucking mask they made you wear."

Hannibal ran a consoling hand down his wife's arm as he solaced, "I will remove them before returning to you, my Love."

She rested her hand on his shoulder and supported, "Don't worry about that, H…you just make sure you return."

Hannibal pulled his collar up around his face and walked down the steps of their home.

"Rest assured, my Love, our son will arrive soon and I will be by your side."

Hannibal turned from his wife, set his mind to the task at hand and set out in the direction of the scent as if beginning an evening run. He disappeared around the corner, Clarice terrified the love of her life and the father of her soon to be born son might never return.

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	125. Chapter 125

**TALKING DIRTY**

Hannibal trotted down the road leisurely with his head oscillating from side to side assessing the air as he moved. He turned down several streets leaving ones where the scent lessened. As he distanced from his home, all the while following his nose, it led him to a street where the scent began concentrating.

_It has been quite some time since last I hunted. I should thank you for your daring, foolish and ill conceived though it may be. _

Hannibal checked his watch.

_Only five minutes have elapsed since leaving my home and already your scent is concentrating? You are far more fearless than you are clever. You live very near me, my friend, though, probably not for long._

That thought made him smile.

Hannibal moved easily in an out of traffic, crossing several large intersections as he followed the increasingly pungent scent. Finally, he came to an area where the aroma seemed to drop off suddenly. Hannibal turned in a circle flaring his nostrils as he lifted his chin in the air seeking the scent.

_You did not pass this place…where is your home, my aromatic friend?_

There was a large park with several benches across the street from the trail's end. Grateful for the cover the area provided, Hannibal leaned on the outdoor furniture to stretch his muscles and calculate the dangers. This allowed him the ability to survey the surroundings casually as he weighed several possible outcomes for any number of alternatives he might choose. Finally, he decided that upon determining the location, he would indeed attempt to access the home.

_He would have no idea I could track him this easily therefore his defenses will be lowered. Barring external witnesses, it will be safe to approach._

Hannibal trotted across the street to the home he targeted by scent and noticed one car parked on the dirt and gravel driveway. It was an older model two-seated sports car, more rust than metal.

_He lives alone, possibly with one other person. I would venture to guess the former rather than the latter as this man is a repulsive animal. _

As a woman with a dog passed, Hannibal bent and pretended to tighten his laces.

_This must be the home. His scent is so rank and heavy with bodily fluids it makes this search not only painfully easy but physically painful as well. That scent…ugh, a repulsive mixture of the cheap cologne he literally bathed in attempting to mask the shower he neglected to take, gunpowder, old urine and semen. More to the point there is semen with no trace of an accompanying feminine scent. Flying solo, are you my friend?_

An open window emitted the same rising stench being tracked, though it was extremely focused and intense.

_That stench is disgusting...his home smells like a human litter box._

The pungent convergence caused warm saliva to begin flooding Hannibal's mouth turning the hypersensitive man's stomach. He wretched for a moment, standing from his knee, bent at the waist in order to recover. The foul aroma that carried Hannibal to this very small home signaled quite clearly that he had indeed arrived at his destination.

_If this is your home you have made my life quite easy. I can kill you and be home before your body cools._

Hannibal moved quickly to the back of the building, shielded from view by a large picket fence. The structure was a Cape with an attached garage and large trellis affixed to the side. Several old aluminum lawn chairs with frayed webbing surrounded the remnants of what must have been a recent barbecue. The fire pit, replete with burned out cardboard cylinders and brightly colored cones scattered about the edges, seemed well used.

_This pit has been used recently therefore the source of the gunpowder scent is, more likely than not, the fireworks. There may not be a weapon after all. This individual may be daring however his intelligence and judgment are seriously lacking. What he gains in boldness is diminished in common sense. Though he poses a threat to the family, he will barely be a challenge to me. Clarice will be relieved._

Hannibal approached the trellis and tested its durability. Although the wood was not particularly stable, the vines that twisted around and within the framework added an armature that Hannibal believed would support his weight. He slipped an arm through and grasped tightly. He then stepped onto the framework and bounced slightly to analyze the tensile strength. Deeming it to be sufficient for his needs, he quickly ascended.

Thrilled with the pursuit, Hannibal's heartbeat was slow and strong as he scaled the side of the garage courtesy of this scrap wood and aged ivy ladder.

_I shall access your home in much the same way you accessed mine though you will never know of my visit. If I am forced to call on you a second time, when you do see me, your life will flash before your eyes._

Hannibal gripped the twists of ivy and silently scrambled up the trellis and vines. Finding the garage an extremely good vantage point he could clearly see the perpetrator sitting on a worn couch in the living room located on the first floor. The man was watching what Hannibal believed to be pornography, though he refused to linger long enough to confirm.

_Wouldn't a live woman be preferable, you revolting reprobate? A shower might go a long way to achieving that end._

Not wishing to find out whether or not the man intended to pleasure himself, Hannibal dashed across the roof of the garage as he carefully assessed the condition of the shingles. He then attended to a very detailed inspection of the same asphalt shingled surface on the home. Hannibal needed to determine whether or not the area had any dangers or abnormalities he would need to be aware of in the event it became necessary to make a quick exit from that section of either building.

_No defects…no antennae or satellite dishes to worry about. I most certainly gave you much more credit. Your disregard for your own safety is making this much less effort than I originally believed. If the windows are in the same state of disrepair as the remainder of the home, access should be easily managed._

He then moved to the edges of the roof and assessed which room would be the quickest to access. He had the choice of two rooms. One appeared to be a spare bedroom as it had a neglected mattress on the floor and stacked milk crates to serve as bedside tables. The room's only illumination now was a light in the hallway. Although there was a lamp, it had no shade and the exposed bulb was distinctly blackened, obviously long burnt out.

_This room provides the best opportunity, as it has no overhead light. Even if he replaces the bulb, he must fully enter the room to access the fixture._

Though the windows were closed, they had simple brass locks and were of an older, wooden style with rope and pulley systems to raise and lower them. Hannibal leaned over the roof and grabbed the edge of one window. He wiggled the frame gently to determine how much play was present.

_These are so old they are more like shutters swinging in and out, than windows. I wonder? Can the hook of the Harpy slip easily between?_

Hannibal thumbed open his knife by placing the pad of the digit within the circular cut out on the blade. He then reached, stretching very slowly so as not to lose his balance and shimmied the blade between the windows. The hook caught the lock and with a flick of his wrist, Hannibal opened the sash.

Stepping through the window and into the home Hannibal breathed deeply to determine the location of his target. Safety was assured as the man remained in the living room. The stealthy doctor opened the closet door to see only empty hangers and some boxes taped closed and marked _Christmas. _With no chest of drawers to store clothing_, _Hannibal had his answer.

_This room is unoccupied. Unless he shares the second bedroom, this man lives alone._

Passing the railing, Hannibal could see the man was now, indeed, masturbating. He quickly averted his eyes and mused at the irony of the act as he moved down the hall.

_So you are still watching the sex life you wish you had, I see. And you had the nerve to question my capacity to procreate when your sexual partner is your right hand?_

Hannibal checked his watch and began the calculations.

_The food will be ready in twenty minutes time. I'll need ten minutes to get home and pick up the car. The drive to the restaurant adds an additional five minutes time. That leaves several minutes to look about. I'll need no more than that._

Walking down the open hall in the other direction, aside from two rooms, there was a bathroom. The good doctor peeked in to determine whether or not, in an emergency, he should enter this space. There was no window, just a series of glass blocks to let the light in.

_No egress. There is no way this can be opened without breaking through the glass bricks. Make certain, if there is a need to flee, not to enter this room._

Following the stench of the man down the hall to the master bedroom, Hannibal quickly slipped into the room. He sidestepped clothing on the floor and caught sight of several magazines similar in nature to the programming the man was currently enjoying.

Kicking open one of the periodicals to determine the nature of the material Hannibal noted the man seemed to be quite fond of rope play.

_Stands to reason, if climbing is your hobby…that may suit my needs…_

Opening the closet, Hannibal evaluated the clothing.

_All the same size and style. All menswear. That fact, in concert with the literal orgy of pornographic evidence, makes it likely he lives alone._

The stench burning his sinuses, Hannibal decided he had both tolerated and chanced enough for one evening. He moved swiftly to the spare room and headed out the same window from which he entered. He slipped undetected down the trellis and moved quickly out of the yard.

_In and out with all the information needed and no one is the wiser, least of all the dullard seeking his end in front of a two-dimensional harem. Pathetic. Truly._

Jogging at a comfortable pace, Hannibal breathed deeply certain to allow his lungs to fully expand with each breath. This permitted the cool April air to fill his lungs and vent the offensive aromas that had previously infiltrated his pulmonary system.

Within minutes he arrived at his Bentley with plenty of time remaining to pick up the food. Realizing the staff of the restaurant would expect him to have maroon irises and would be suspicious if it were not so, Hannibal removed the contacts. He then sent a quick text message to Clarice.

His text. Two words.

_GETTING FOOD_

Her response. Two words as well.

_THANK GOD_

Returning not fifteen minutes later with dinner in hand, Hannibal ascended the stairs leading to the home and entered feeling robust and refreshed.

Finding his wife relieved with the veil of worry newly lifted, Hannibal placed the food on the dining room table and threw his arms open widely.

"Well, Hello, Clarice!" he exclaimed.

His worried wife ran into his arms and hugged him close. Hannibal held her, consciously deciding for her emotional benefit that he would not release her. When this embrace was broken, it would be the moment his wife had had her fill and not one instant before.

"H…did you find him?" she questioned against his chest.

Hannibal nodded as his wife clutched him tightly to her.

"Why, of course I did, Clarice. Need you ask?"

She kissed the center of his chest. "Nah, I knew you would. You are a singular man."

Hannibal held his wife, arms loosely encircling her as he leaned back slightly in order to make eye contact. There was true excitement in his voice.

"It was no challenge whatever, my Love. This dolt would do well to stay at home. He will not stand a chance alone in my company."

Now realizing her husband had gathered the information necessary to protect the family, Clarice's concern shifted. She released Hannibal and looked up.

Seeing the contacts were removed, thrilled, Clarice brushed a hand over his brow and looked deeply into the crimson core she loved so well. Her heart warmed, the sentiment reflected in her voice, she recognized.

"_There _you are…I missed you."

Hannibal's voice was deep, penetrating Clarice's soul as he whispered in her ear, "I am never far from you, my Love, whatever the color of my eyes."

That thought, that he would never leave her, brought more comfort to Clarice than she was able to clearly communicate to her husband. She responded simply, aware that he could sense her mood, "I know H…I know."

She finally stepped back from him. "I'll get the dishes and the cutlery. You wash up quick before the dinner gets cold."

Kissing his wife quickly, he responded enthusiastically, "I'll be but a moment, Clarice."

Hannibal raced out of the room, newly charged. He was taking the safety of his family into his own hands and was confident that if the intruder returned, Hannibal would be ready.

As Hannibal washed, Clarice carried plates into the dining room and began to unpack the food. She put the entirety of Hannibal's dinner choice in one large serving bowl. She placed all of the rice in another bowl, her meal was placed within a third. She wasn't much of a cook, but there was no need for her to be. There was an unspoken rule between the couple; if Hannibal cooked, he served. If Hannibal conceded on the rare occasion and they purchased take-out food, Clarice served.

Hannibal returned to the dining room after having washed quickly. Clarice loved the way his hair spilled across his forehead haphazardly, as it so often did after his shower. It gave him a casual, almost boyish appearance. Clarice believed she could see her son in Hannibal's face. She kissed him as she placed the last plate on the table.

Hannibal waited for Clarice to sit and begin placing food on her plate. He spoke with true appreciation, "Thank you for preparing our meal, Clarice."

Clarice laughed and responded playfully, "Hell, it wasn't too difficult opening up a few containers and dumping them into bowls."

"Still, you could have expected me to eat from the containers. It was considerate of you to plate the entrées and ready our place settings. I appreciate your effort. It can't be easy on you as I am certain your body is going through quite a lot of changes. Our baby will arrive any day."

Clarice was ladling rice onto her plate and adding heaping scoops of curry.

"I'm feeling fine, H, but to be honest, this pregnancy feels like the longest gestation period in history so I'm really looking forward to holding the baby in my arms instead of my belly. I feel as if the little guy's feet are hanging out of me, he's getting so low."

Finding the comment more than a little entertaining, Hannibal rewarded his wife with a genuine smile.

"Though I find that visual amusing, I am certain this late in your pregnancy the baby has turned and begun his decent into the birth canal."

As the pair enjoyed their meal, Clarice took the opportunity to interrogate.

"So, this guy, he's no more than a mile? Are you kidding me?"

Hannibal held up a hand and paused for a moment before answering. He was chewing and wouldn't disrespect his wife by speaking with a mouth filled with food. Upon swallowing, as he added food to his plate he answered, "Give or take, yes. I made the run comfortably in less than ten minutes so that's a safe assumption."

Clarice smiled widely as she ate.

"Do you know how much I love you, H?"

"I hope it approaches the love I have for you, Clarice."

Clarice had placed wine on the table for Hannibal, but, due to his run, he thought it best to forgo the alcohol and hydrate. He and Clarice had achieved a level of comfort in their domesticity, each caring for the other without thought. Hannibal excused himself and stood.

"I'm going to get some water, my Love. Would you like me to bring you a glass as well?"

"That would be great, H."

Hannibal returned with a large bottle of mineral water and two glasses. He began to pour as he spoke, "You must monitor your fluid intake as well, my Love. Not only for the purposes of a healthy delivery, but for your milk production as well."

"I'm trying to H, but, it's tough because if I drink as much as I should, I've gotta pee every minute. I spend half the day in the bathroom!"

Hannibal placed a filled water glass in front of Clarice.

She nodded a quick thank you and with a point of her fork, indicated that she wanted to taste some of Hannibal's food. He nodded his assent.

As she scooped several heaps of the entree, she asked, "So, this bastard lives alone or with someone?"

He spoke as he poured his own water, "Alone. There is only one wardrobe in the bedroom being used. The other room is empty of personal effects."

Clarice, not as concerned with refinement as her husband, spoke as she chewed. Normally, he might have corrected, but, he learned somewhere around her seventh month, not to draw undue attention to such things lest he raise her hormonal ire.

She continued questioning, "So, H…You sure the fireworks were the source of the gunpowder?"

Hannibal, momentarily having his fill of food, set down his fork and picked up his glass. He sipped at his water as he spoke, "Yes, quite certain. There were no traces of it in the home and the yard was filled with spent charges."

Clarice set her fork down for a moment as well. The import of the next series of questions would soon be obvious.

"I'm assuming, if he lives alone, you'd take him in his home?"

Wasting not an ounce of energy he responded simply, "Yes."

Clarice leaned in close, "If you've got to handle this, how would you access the residence?"

Hannibal smiled a wicked smile and leaned in toward his wife whispering salaciously, "Ooh, Clarice, I love it when you talk dirty!"

"Come on, I'm serious…_this _is _serious_. How would you do it?"

Hannibal hedged, "You may rest assured, I am very, very good at this, Clarice. Do you not trust me? Are the details _that_ important, my Love?"

Clarice supported her distended belly with her hands and shifted uncomfortably, as she responded, "No, but you can't use the Harpy. Anything but the Harpy."

There was a devilish gleam in Hannibal's eyes as he recounted, "I saw something today that reminded me somewhat of Mason Verger. It gave me a very good idea and rest assured it will not involve the Harpy."

"But you'll only go after him if he comes back, right?"

"Yes, that is clearly understood. Clarice, perhaps you should call Lora and ask her if she would be amenable to staying here with us for a few days. She has already agreed to assisting with the delivery and I would feel better about leaving you if there was another to look after you in the event I am delayed."

"Okay, H. If it makes you feel better."

Hannibal finished his dinner, secretly hoping to see the intruder again.

Hannibal Lecter had no way of knowing that within the next twenty-four hours he would be doing two of the things at which he truly excelled. Bringing a baby into this world and taking a man out of it.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	126. Chapter 126

**CLOSER…CLOSER**

Though Hannibal insisted it was unnecessary, Clarice woke with her alarm clock.

Still tired from the late night in her husband's arms, she allowed the music to continue to play. Hannibal groaned at the cacophony and pulled a pillow over his face. Clarice smiled as the annoyed rumble rolled within his torso, vibrating against her ear.

Understanding his wife was in no hurry to silence what she considered music, he spoke, muffled from beneath the pillow, "My Love, please…"

Rolling from the sensual comfort of her husband's body, she silenced the blaring rock music booming from the clock.

Hannibal removed the downy comfort from his face, "Thank you, Clarice."

Clarice continually floated a loving hand across her husband's bare chest as she settled back against him for a quick cuddle. Neither contented lover predicted, before beginning their day, that it would be their last as a childless couple.

Hannibal reached for her thigh and began to stroke the strong muscles now lax from his touch. "You are perfection, Clarice."

Rolling her eyes, she tousled his hair and teased, "Flatterer."

"As I've said before, it would only be flattery if I were trying to gain favor. There is no need for such as I enjoyed your _favor_ several times last night. It is the simple truth. In my eyes, you are perfection."

Blushing, she responded quietly, "You're perfect, too, H."

Clarice began to kiss his chest and abdomen, her hand still feeling his body as a soft sigh escaped her. It was not a sexual touch, more a loving exploration of that which would always be hers. He would love her as long as he lived, she knew that, but he would not be there as long as she lived. She wanted to memorize him. To keep him with her, always, knowing no one could ever replace him in her eyes or in her heart.

Hannibal didn't sense the melancholy in her touch.

_She is happy…_

The sound of his wife's ease with him burned deep in his belly.

The contented husband rested, unmoving, as he concentrated on the sensation of her flesh passing chastely over his. Slowly, he reached for their child and spanned his hand over his wife's swollen abdomen, palming it gently.

_For so many years I lived in a cell with no one to touch and no one to touch me. I hadn't thought this possible. I would not indulge myself to want; would not dare to dream…_

Clarice covered his hand with her own, pausing for the briefest of moments. Not understanding the significance of his touch, she removed his from hand from her body and sat up cross-legged in bed with her hands supporting the baby's weight, now uncomfortably low.

_I feel the loss of your touch already, my Love._

She patted his thigh, encouraging, "Time to get up, H…the people will be here soon with the equipment."

The last thing Hannibal wanted to do was get up.

Moving onto his side raising himself by tucking the pillow under his arm, he breathed the crisp morning air wisped in from the partially opened window. He reached up and took his wife's hand. Spreading her fingers and lacing his within, he slowly began to kiss the pads on each fingertip, occasionally drawing a digit into his mouth and sucking gently.

"Clarice, all I want at this moment is to feel the body of the only woman I could ever love warming mine. Is that too much to ask?"

Clarice shook her husband's leg attempting to jostle his lethargy.

"Yeah, H. Right now, with a truck on the way, it's too much to ask. We've got to hurry up and get ready."

Hannibal didn't even remotely share her concern, attending to placing kisses the length of her arm. His voice remained calm as he offered, "There is no reason to hurry. I'll hear the truck when they pull up in front of the house providing us with plenty of time to get out of bed. I'm quite sure I can reach the door without raising suspicion as to our activities."

"There aren't going to be any _activities_! God, H…Don't you _ever_ get enough?"

Hannibal licked the webbings between her fingers, looked up, touched his tongue briefly to front teeth and replied scandalously, "Never."

"Well, you've had enough for _this_ morning."

Clarice pulled her hand from his, reached to him and playfully shoved his shoulder hoping to get him to move. Her voice was attempting to approach annoyance, but Hannibal, with no hold on her hands, now clutched at and began to bite her thighs. He leaned over, latched on to the soft muscle of her inner thigh and sucked hard, leaving a livid spot.

Laughing hard, she shoved at his body, but couldn't dislodge him. She faux-reprimanded, "Hannibal Lecter, I have no intention of being caught wearing nothing more than a bathrobe and a smile when the medical supply truck arrives. I wouldn't even have time to put on a bra, for Christ's sake."

Hannibal lifted his head just long enough to wink at his wife, "Well, if that were the case you certainly wouldn't hear me complain about it."

Turning to face him she questioned sarcastically, "Yeah right. And what would you do to the first man you caught ogling me?"

Hannibal reached around his wife's body and pulled her closer to him. As he continued kissing her thighs he stated simply, "Nothing."

His lips tickling, she giggled as she pushed him back and blurted out, "Liar!"

He pulled her in and held her to him tightly, returning, "I never lie."

"You wouldn't stick your Harpy through the ribs of the first man who leered?"

Hannibal spoke softly as he lovingly attended to her flesh, "No. I have absolutely no problem with men looking at you, Clarice. As a matter of fact it is a distinct point of spousal pride for me to know that, although many men will desire you, you only desire me. You are a masterpiece therefore, anyone may enjoy looking, I would, however, stick my Harpy through the ribs of the first man who dared to touch."

Trying to wriggle away to no avail she urged, "Glad to know you still care. C'mon, I swear you'd stay in bed all day and night if it were up to you."

Grabbing her and scooting his body toward her he quickly spooned around Clarice, trapping her. He clutched her to him and asserted, "With you by my side, I could and would."

Clarice wriggled and pushed at her husband but his grip was too firm. She smacked him repeatedly as she laughed, "H, you may not care about the delivery men but Lora is coming over soon to help supervise the equipment set up and move into the spare room. Do you want her to catch you with your pants down?"

Hannibal face buried against her flesh as he commented offhand, "Why not? It wouldn't be the first time."

No longer laughing, Clarice spun quickly, swiftly captured his face with both her hands and tilted his head upward seeking his eyes. She made no effort to hide her displeasure, demanding, "H? Explain. Quickly!"

Attempting to dissuade her anger he grabbed her hands and began to kiss them. She pulled back rapidly and reiterated, "Now, H!"

Seeing he would not be able to deflect the question, he spoke dispassionately, "Clarice, she was responsible for my health and as such was present at the prison when I showered, therefore I doubt there's anything she hasn't seen."

"What do you mean she was there when you showered? What the hell, H!"

"I had injuries. She is a nurse, Clarice."

"Nurse, my Ass! She's still a woman, H, and much as women don't like to let on, if we find a man attractive, we're…curious."

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, not following her insinuation.

"Curious?"

"Penis size, H…you know, for such a brilliant man, you can be dense."

Not a modest man and in no way connecting his own nudity, while in prison, to his sexuality, Hannibal had not considered that possibility. He laughed aloud as he reflected, "My apologies, Clarice. Having one of my own, I don't find myself considering that topic. And, while it is possible she may have stolen a glance without my knowledge, she was extremely professional and I was grateful to have her near."

"Yeah,_ how_ near?"

Careful to keep his tone neutral so as not to raise further anger he calmly explained, "Near enough to assess my injuries, Clarice. My good friend Alan wasn't exactly delicate and she was a strong advocate on my behalf. I would not have fared as well if not for her presence."

Remembering how much Hannibal endured under the hands of Alan Bloom, Clarice calmed slightly, "I know she was and I'm really glad she was there to help you. Still, I don't want to think of anyone else seeing you like that. It still bothers me that you had an active sex life before me."

Hannibal sat up in bed. This was not a topic he wished to pursue. "I cannot turn back time, Clarice, much as I may have at times wished it so."

"Would you, H? Would you want to go back…change things?"

"No."

"Just that? That quickly, no?"

"What would it serve?"

"You could change your past. Take away all that suffering."

"Then, by extension, I would also take away all the joy I feel today. Had I not endured what you call suffering, our paths would never have crossed."

"What_ I_ call suffering? What the heck would _you_ call it?"

"Life, Clarice."

Hannibal rolled from the bed and walked into the bathroom.

Clarice followed. Walking up behind him she touched a hand to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, H."

Without turning, he placed a hand over hers and answered simply, "There is no need."

She kissed the hand that covered hers, "Still, we have so much to look forward to. I shouldn't be reminding you of the past."

He squeezed her hand as he spoke, "We have discussed this before. The past makes us who we are, Clarice."

Needing his eyes, Clarice tugged at his shoulder, turning him to her. She placed her palms on his chest and sought the deep maroon of his eyes for comfort.

"I know…still, I hurt you and that's the last thing in the world I wanted to do."

Taking his wife in his arms he pulled her close and pressing his cheek to hers, spoke gently, "Clarice, you know there were two words that, when uttered by you, forever absolved you of causing me pain."

"H?"

"_I do,_ my Love."

Clarice clutched at his shoulders, clearly emotional. Hannibal kissed her cheek and released her, not wanting to further upset.

"I'm about to shower, my Love. Would you like to join me?"

"H, one of us needs to hear the door."

"I assure you. If someone arrives, I'll be aware."

Hannibal turned on the water, tested the temperature and stepped into the stall. He reached his arms around Clarice.

"Join me, my Love."

Still a tad jealous she teased, "I don't know, H. You sure you don't want to wait for Lora?"

Hannibal winked, "Maybe another time."

His arms still around her, he began to back up into the shower, gently pulling his wife in with him.

She resisted, but only slightly, "Are you sure you'll hear the door?"

Hannibal flirted boldly, "Unless your thighs are covering my ears, in which case, they'll wait."

"You're crazy, H."

"Do tell, my Love."

Clarice stepped in the shower and into her husband's arms. He turned her toward the water, allowing the gentle pulsing water to keep her warm while he sought his warmth from her breasts. Grabbing a bar of soap, he slowly began sliding his hands over her body as he reached to taste her breasts. He spoke between gently caresses of each peak with his lips and tongue.

"Very soon… I will be jealous… to wait in line…my Love."

Clarice massaged his shoulders and Hannibal lowered to his knees. "Baby first, H…those are the rules."

"I know, my Love." Hannibal, kneeling before his wife as if at an altar, gently soaped her belly as spoke to the child within, "Very soon we will meet, my Little One."

Hannibal and Clarice continued to make love as they washed each other. Hannibal was concentrating intently as he continually traced his nose along her flesh, breathing deeply.

"H? Is something wrong?"

Hannibal attended to her words but did not shift his focus from her flesh as he continually nuzzled along body, breathing deeply.

He explained as if Clarice should have assumed his intent, "Nothing is wrong. I am simply memorizing your scent."

Clarice ran her fingers through his hair. Touched by his attention, she rested her cheek on the top of his head and cradled his head gently, as she questioned, "Why?"

Finding the gentle curve beneath her breast to be of particular interest, he nestled his cheek, lifted gently and snuggled along the fullness as he breathed deeply, drawing in every gradation of aroma, committing to his memory the distinction between, this scent of Clarice, the previous, and curious as to what different notes would be present in the next. Almost an afterthought, he answered, "Because, you are soon to give birth, my Love."

"And?"

His voice lowered, becoming somewhat pensive as he responded with the slightest hint of melancholy, "And, your scent will change somewhat. The…nuance will be different."

The change in tone was not wasted on Clarice. "H…You sounded so sad when you said that…are you upset?"

Hannibal reached for a bottle and twisted off the top. Upending it, he filled his palm with the liquid and ran it through his wife's hair.

"Not upset, though I find that pregnancy becomes you. I have enjoyed this time with you and I have hopes you have as well."

Hannibal began to shampoo her hair, running his fingers through the tresses, careful to keep the soap from her eyes. He traced his lips against her throat, tasting the water that pooled near her clavicle. Clarice stretched her neck and arched her body back into him, searching for his lips. They kissed briefly.

"Aside from the times we were apart, I loved it too, H."

Realizing that he had not made this pregnancy easy on his wife Hannibal conceded, "Yes, I was away from you for far too long. I promise during your next pregnancy, I'll not leave your side. Not for one single moment. "

Clarice reached back for her husband's hips and pulled him against her body.

"Still planning for your daughter?"

Hannibal cozied against her as he reached up and checked her hair to be certain the lather had all been cleared. Moving the wavy locks from the back to the front of her body he allowed the hair to spill across her chest. Kissing her now bare shoulders, reaching for the soap and began to lather her back, massaging her muscles, the silky lather allowing his hands to slide over her muscles.

Hannibal measured his next sentence, hoping his wife would be open to the idea he ruminated for months. Resting his chin on her shoulder he spoke gently, close against her ear. The hum of his deep tenor suggested hopefully, "Rather, I think, _not planning_ might be better."

Clarice giggled as she leaned into his touch. "Quit it, H…that tickles," she paused as she regained her composure and questioned, "What did you say? I'm not following."

Alternately kissing and nibbling her deltoid muscle, he proceeded, "Would you consider, when you are healed and feeling quite yourself again, foregoing birth control to let Nature take its course?"

Clarice turned toward her husband and grabbed his hips, pulling him against her body as closely as she could manage considering the baby resting within.

Hannibal rested his cheek on her sternum, counting along with the beating of her heart.

"H? I'm not Catholic, at least not yet. I have no aversion to birth control."

Hannibal held her belly with both hands and rocked gently back and forth, swaying with Clarice, "I find that, now, with a child on the way, I do."

Clarice considered his suggestion, "Vatican Roulette, huh?"

Still infatuated with the baby undulating within his wife he nodded as he considered her belly, "As it were."

She had never seen him like this. He was transfixed. She pursued the topic to gauge his intent.

"You have your heart set on this don't you, H?"

Hannibal began to palpate her abdomen, assessing the position of the baby.

"A boy learns to care for a future wife by being a brother and a son first. Our boy must learn how to care for and protect a sibling. To this end, a brother would suffice but a sister would be best."

Clarice, realizing Hannibal asked for little during the course of their married life and, growing attached to thoughts of a large family agreed, "Okay, H…we'll do it your way."

Smiling widely at what he perceived to be a victory, Hannibal was rinsing the soap from his wife's back when he picked up on the rumble of a large truck.

"They have arrived, Clarice. You may relax and finish here. I'll open the door for the delivery. Take your time; I will lock our bedroom door as I exit."

"Thanks, H. I won't be long."

Hannibal dried quickly and dressed. He was down the stairs before the men had the opportunity to ring the bell. Standing on the steps just outside the entrance the eager father waited patiently as the first pieces of equipment were being unloaded.

Lora arrived just as the baby's incubator was being lowered from the truck.

"Hello, Doctor Lecter. I see I've gotten here just in time."

The good doctor nodded amicably, "So it would seem. It is good to see you again Lora. Please, call me Hannibal."

Lora blushed slightly, "If you prefer, Hannibal it is."

As Hannibal welcomed Lora with a hug, Clarice appeared behind him.

"Hey, Lora." Clarice said with an edge to her voice that only Hannibal perceived.

"Hi, Clarice. How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful. Hannibal's been so attentive that I've been absolutely spoiled."

She turned to her husband, and, draping her arms around his neck, began systematically marking her territory, "He just helped me wash my hair." Clarice turned to Hannibal, "Didn't you, H?"

Amused by her territorial display and not to be outdone, Hannibal unabashedly continued the thought, "I helped you wash more than your hair, Clarice."

Clarice slapped him playfully, "I know, H…I was there."

Lora was entertained by the exchange. "It's probably good to get in all the alone time you can before the baby arrives. Intimacy ensures a healthy marriage so make sure you remember that when the baby gets here."

Distracted momentarily, Hannibal searched the air.

_You were here recently were you not, my friend? If you were indeed near, it would be best to get Clarice into the home._

As the scent that drew his attention faded, he redirected his thoughts and offered, "Clarice, perhaps you can show Lora where she'll be staying. By the time she gets settled, the equipment should be in place and she can oversee the installation. It might be a good idea to for us to check each piece and make certain everything is functional before the workers leave."

Clarice smiled. "It probably is. Come on, Lora. I'll show you your room first and then you can head to the room we'll use for the birthing suite."

Lora was obviously happy for the pair and followed Clarice cheerfully. The women spoke as Clarice opened the door, welcoming Lora to the home. Lora stepped inside, thrilled to be a part of the birth.

"Clarice?"

"Yes, Lora?"

"Soon there will be a beautiful baby to play with. It's exciting, isn't it? One minute it's just the two of you and then, you're a family."

Clarice nodded, "It's hard to believe. It still seems like it's all just a dream. Like I'm going to wake up and find out that none of it's true and it's just me again."

"No, it's all real. Hannibal loves you and there's a beautiful baby on the way!"

"I just worry too much, that's all. This pregnancy hasn't been easy and H was away for a lot of it."

Lora attempted to assuage Clarice's anxiety, "Not because he wanted to be, that's for sure."

She directed Lora to the stairs. They walked side by side, and, as they were of similar height and build, step for step.

Because Hannibal rarely spoke of his last incarceration, Clarice saw her time alone with Lora as an opportunity to find out more. She probed indirectly, "Yeah…H really needs this. He's been through hell."

Not realizing Clarice was unaware of many of the facts, Lora innocently proceeded, "I know he has. I was there for the worst of it. I also noticed when examining him that he had many newly forming scars. It's obvious that he had a significant event prior to the situation with Bloom. Lord knows Bloom didn't give him easy time, either. I must say, I've never seen a person who could absorb so much damage without crying out in pain."

_Yeah, that's not all you noticed when you examined him!_

Seeing that Lora was perfectly willing to share, Clarice continued, not knowing the Pandora's box she was about to open.

"He told me you were a comfort to him. I want you to know how much I appreciate that. It kills me that I couldn't be there for him and it makes me feel better that you were there to look after him."

Lora nodded as they reached the top of the stairs. She was obviously touched by the gratitude.

"I did what I could. I wish I could have done more. It honestly took me a while to figure out that Bloom was off his rocker. It was a nightmare; he just kept getting more and more aggressive with Hannibal. I was afraid he was going to kill him. Not to mention the cameras. Your poor husband was being filmed every minute of every day. It was bad enough in his cell but I finally put a stop to it in the shower. That was totally unnecessary."

They reached the room. Clarice stepped aside, allowing Lora to enter first.

Lora set her bag down.

Clarice's training with the FBI taught her that a comfortable person, one who identifies with the interrogator, shares more information. Like the spider to the fly, Clarice sat on the bed and patted a hand on the mattress, inviting Lora to sit.

Uncovering the topic of her interest, Clarice lead, "He said you supervised his showers."

Lora assumed by that comment that Hannibal had shared the details of the situation and not just a cursory explanation. She might have been more guarded with the information had she known what Clarice knew, or more specifically, did not know.

Not realizing the position this would put Hannibal in, Lora shared willingly, "Not officially, but it was becoming a bit of a frat party. With Logan there it wasn't exactly the most dignified situation so I stepped in and made sure your husband was afforded privacy. Men are really weird about that sort of thing. It seems like everything is a pissing contest with them. Not to mention the fact that your husband apparently gave them all inferiority complexes."

The already jealous wife did not like the direction the conversation was going.

"What do you mean inferiority complexes?"

"Logan was drawing attention to the fact that your husband is more well-endowed than most and of course, being men, they took note of it. Logan went on and on about it and that's about the time I kicked them all out. Not to mention that Hannibal had been without you for a quite a while by that point and really needed privacy."

Clarice's body stiffened.

_Okay, this is getting ugly…I don't like the turn this is taking._

"What do I have to do with his need for privacy?"

"He needed time…_alone_."

"What do you mean, _alone_?"

"Clarice, what does every man do from puberty on up, occasionally in the shower, if he either doesn't have or doesn't have access to his sexual partner?"

"They probably mastur…" Realization dawning, she didn't finish the word. Horrified, she stammered, "You…you don't mean to…to tell me you were there, in the shower while my husband…" her voice trailed off even as her heart sank.

Lora held up her hands and reassured, "Oh, God no! I wasn't _with _him. I simply afforded him the privacy. What he did or didn't do was up to him. I just stood outside the door keeping the men out."

"What the hell was it, a party in there?"

"Initially, it was. I couldn't control what they were up to before I got there, once I stepped in, he had privacy. No one watched him in the shower. And if it makes you feel better, that included me. I'd never compromise his dignity like that."

Clarice nudged Lora jokingly to temp more information. "Oh, don't act like you didn't see it."

"Let's just say I didn't see it _intentionally_."

"Yeah, I get it…especially with them all talking about it. Fucking Logan!"

"He's a bit much, but I think he'd kill for Hannibal."

Remembering Logan hanging out of the helicopter with his weapon as he took out Stuart Miggs, Clarice agreed, "He would. In fact, he has."

Lora consoled, "So, I guess we'll have to excuse his locker room immaturity."

"Yeah, I guess so." Clarice thought it best to drop the subject, at least until she got a hold of Hannibal.

"Well, I really appreciate the fact that you looked out for him as well as you did. Even now, with this… you helping us so much with the baby, it really means a lot."

"It meant so much to be asked, really."

"Well, Hannibal trusts you and Hannibal doesn't trust anyone so I was thrilled you agreed. He isn't the type of man who asks for help, so…when he told me he called you I was surprised."

Lora leaned close, sharing a secret with Clarice, "He told me that when I spoke to him. He said, he would never ask, except where you were concerned, he didn't trust your life or the baby's life to just his hands. If there were an emergency, he wanted another person to help. I'm happy he asked me. You both deserve a bit of peace in your lives. When Hannibal said he wanted you to give birth at home, I agreed immediately. Privacy is hard to come by in hospitals."

Clarice rolled her eyes, "Well, it is when your last name is Lecter, that's for sure!"

Lora laughed, "With your husband's past and your relationship being so unusual it sure as heck doesn't help, not to mention that damned photo bounty by the Tattler. I figured Hannibal was right. You're safer here. The world is full of bat-shit insane people and you've had far too many in your life already!"

_Bat-shit insane! Too funny!_

Clarice decided she liked Lora. She stood, smiling, "That's for sure. Well, why don't I leave you to unpack your belongings, and get settled? You have your own bathroom, so you'll have all the privacy you need. When you're ready, just follow the activity and you'll see where, with your help, we are going to have our baby."

"Thanks, Clarice."

Clarice left Lora in the room and headed out to find Hannibal.

Hannibal was busy supervising the unloading of all the equipment, checking the invoices against his own list to be certain he would have everything he needed. Once Clarice went into labor it would be too late to second-guess what he did and did not have. He would not get this wrong. It was too important.

Clarice found him in the entryway. He had the men stage all of the equipment in the hallway and dining room. Once he approved the entire delivery, he would have them move the material to the room upstairs. He was approving the last of the pieces when Clarice approached and tapped him aggressively on the shoulder.

"Hey, H…we've got to talk."

Hannibal had not finished cross checking his list with the delivery. He would not chance her safety to pacify what he perceived correctly as anger.

"Though I can tell from your bearing that you are upset, I don't have time for that now, Clarice. I will not chance your safety by being ill prepared. I must be certain I have everything I need. If you'll give me a moment, I'll tend to your concerns."

"_Tend to my concerns? _What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Unaffected by her anger, Hannibal went about his business.

"Semantics, Clarice. Please…a moment."

Clarice poked his shoulder to assert her upset as she directed him, more than a little aggressively, "Meet me in the family room when you're ready to _tend to my needs_."

Hannibal did not adjust his demeanor or shift his focus. Instead, he explained his position dispassionately as he attended his list.

"As much you are not accustomed to my inattention, my Love, I am, as we speak attending to your needs in a much more tangible way. You don't want me to make a mistake with this and while I am certain your concerns are valid, know that this is much more pressing."

His words did not dissuade her.

"Whatever. I'll be in the family room."

Hannibal, still focused intently on his task, remained calm as he responded, "I'll be along presently."

Clarice stood, staring at him for a moment expecting him to look up. When her husband simply attended to the task at hand in a workmanlike fashion she spun on her heels and stormed off to wait in the family room.

Hannibal lifted his head and searched the air.

A series of workers were milling around the room. His eyes sought the source of the scent. Just as sudden as its onset, the aroma was gone.

_My imagination? Not likely. Passing by? Perhaps. Vigilance is needed. _

After a final run through of his order in comparison to each specific item listed on the delivery manifest, Hannibal approved the items and directed the foreman to begin moving the equipment up the stairs. He then proceeded to the family room.

Understanding the mood, he closed the door behind him upon entering. He spoke softly, "You now have my undivided attention, my Love. What can I do for you?"

"You lied to me, Hannibal. She not only saw you naked, she stood by while you…"

He hadn't a clue as to her upset. He approached Clarice causing her to turn away from him. He clasped his hands in front of his body.

"Hannibal? Not H? That serious, is it?"

She turned away from him and asserted, "Yeah, it's serious!"

Hannibal took a step forward. "All right, I'll bite? While I what, Clarice?"

"While you…you know!" She made a pumping action with her fist, cluing him to her anger.

He took another step toward her as he spoke, "Ah, yes…I understand. That offends you?"

Clarice stood her ground although she refused to turn and face him.

"Of course it offends me. She was near while you…Jesus I can't even say it!"

Hannibal approached within an arm's length but stopped short of touching her. His tone yielding to her anger, he grasped her shoulders and turned her to him. She relented, but could not look him in the eye.

"My Love, self-gratification is perfectly natural. I had been away from you for quite some time and if it makes you feel any better, Lora was not privy to my thoughts nor was she witness to my actions. She simply afforded me the dignity of privacy to tend to my needs. I have tended to those needs before and since. I don't recall you requiring I inform you each time."

Clarice glared at him.

"But she was _there!_ You could have handled that _in your cell_, H."

_She called me H…all is forgiven._

Hannibal gathered his wife to him, holding her to his chest. His voice remained tender as he explained, "If you recall the documentary, there was a camera in my cell. I didn't feel the need to leave a video record of that particular activity for posterity. Would that have pleased you more?"

"Well what the hell did you do in your cell at Baltimore? There was a camera there too."

"I was forced to rely on Barney's discretion. If Barney was not on duty, I abstained."

"And you couldn't abstain then?"

Seeking to calm, Hannibal rubbed her back as he spoke.

"It was far easier at a time when there was no woman I loved in my life. Our sex life has been very frequent, Clarice. Had I not tended to myself in that way I am certain I would have experienced a less planned release and it was not my intention to leave DNA samples for the laundry crew. Do not pretend, my Love that you have not, at least at some point in your life, tended to yourself in a similar manner."

Clarice was indignant, pushing him back though he would not release her.

"What? I can't believe you asked me that."

Hannibal held her close and whispered in her ear, "Is it any more or less offensive than the questions you've asked me?"

Clarice struggled half-heartedly to be free of him but Hannibal would not relent. She muttered, "It's different."

"It is most assuredly not different. Let us not forget, I was your first, Clarice."

Embarrassed, she lowered her head, "Yeah, I know. I was there. What's that got to do with anything?"

Hannibal released Clarice and led her to the sofa. They sat together as they held hands.

"You have no need of embarrassment, Clarice. It isn't as if you were a teenager at the time of our first union, therefore, I would assume you found some way of releasing your sexual tension throughout the years."

"Oh, God! I cannot discuss this with you!"

Holding her hands Hannibal continued, his voice mild as he pursued, "I would hope I was in your thoughts at one time or another. It would please me to know that you may have had thoughts of me, as you pleasured yourself. I would not be offended. I would be complimented. You should be complimented as well."

Clarice was distraught as she recounted what she had heard.

"H…she saw you naked. She heard Logan talking about the size of your…for Christ's sake, H! You touched yourself with her what? Ten feet away?"

"Clarice, I was in prison. Everyone saw me naked. I got over that quite a long time ago. I suggest you do as well. And if it concerns you, she was approximately fifteen feet from me and the shower water was running. Though I am certain she aware, she did not, in any way whatever see any of it, therefore, she was hardly a participant."

"H…"

"I know, by your jealousy, that you are telling me you love me, Clarice. Know that there is no other woman who stirs in me the need that you do. I am sorry if you are hurt. This is an issue that will never come up again, God willing. Can you forgive me for a moment of weakness with thoughts of you on my mind?"

"God, H…When you put it like that…"

"There is no other way of putting it, Clarice. Do you accept my apology?"

"You don't have to apologize, H…I couldn't have tolerated the treatment you did. I'm sorry I got upset. I just…I just so damned…"

"Jealous?"

"Yeah…when I think of any woman anywhere near you when you're…yeah, I'm fucking jealous."

"I love you as well, Clarice."

Hannibal opened his arms to his wife, and, as she came to him, gathered her in and pulled her tightly to him.

Suddenly, Hannibal again caught the scent that had so disturbed him moments before. He gripped Clarice's shoulders and spoke in a carefully hushed tone, "Clarice, we have a visitor."

"I know, H. I showed her to her room."

"Not Lora, our previous visitor. The uninvited one."

"He's back?"

"You go find Lora and stay with her. I will seek out my new friend and escort him out. I fear I may have to handle this."

"Get him out and handle it later, H. We can't have the little son of a bitch showing up whenever the hell he feels like it. Just be careful and be discreet."

"When have I been anything but?"

Hannibal took Clarice by the arm and walked her out of the room. He quickly searched the air and whispered, "He is in the dining room. Ascend the stairs and stay with Lora. I believe she is supervising the installation of the equipment. I will remove the offender quickly."

All upset forgotten, Clarice warned, "Watch that little prick. He might be stupid but he's also bold. Stupid and bold are a dangerous combination."

"Understood."

Clarice ascended the stairs quickly, careful not to look back and draw attention to Hannibal's activities.

Hannibal entered the dining room to find the intruder trying to appear as if he worked with the medical supply company. Though he did not have the same uniform the colors of his clothing were an adequate match for the company's required garments.

_You must have been watching the home and believed you saw an opportunity. _

Appearing behind the man without making a sound, Hannibal leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "Hello my friend. Join me in the kitchen, _now_."

The offender turned quickly as Hannibal discreetly manhandled him through the door. The young man was thoroughly entertained by Hannibal's reaction.

"Damn! You are a creepy motherfucker. How the hell do you always know where I am?"

Hannibal hissed, "Your scent is quite…specific."

The intruder backed up, bumping into the marble counter. He seemed more excited than afraid.

"What are you a fucking blood hound?"

Hannibal's only concern was the removal of this irritant from his home.

"Blood? Possibly. I warned you not to return."

The brazen daredevil stood his ground. "What? You're gonna kill me in front of all of these people? I doubt it."

Hannibal lowered his head and covertly growled his intent, "Though your life is already forfeit, if you leave quietly, now, without incident, I promise to expedite your death. Should you tempt fate and stir my vengeance, I will make you spend so many hours begging me for death, that when I finally tire of your agony and deliver it, you will thank me for my mercy."

"You know, when I was eight or nine that might have scared me but I don't check the closet for the Boogie Man any more."

"You are a young pup and have decided to challenge the dominant male. Though I didn't fault your first flirtation with your own mortality, I do fault the second. I accept your challenge. You will soon see my response."

"Dude, you get so freaking worked up, you'd think I fucked your wife or something."

"You are about to die."

"Okay, I'm leaving, but I'm leaving because I want to not because I'm afraid."

"I am not interested in your fear. I am interested in your death."

"Whatever, Old Man."

The young fool pushed through the kitchen door and within seconds was gone from the home with no one the wiser. Hannibal was enraged as the blood poured from beneath the doors of his memory palace. Protector smashed at its door. Hannibal temporarily held it back, though he wanted nothing more than to unleash its fury. Soon he would kill.

_I will visit you tonight, my friend, and I will watch you die._

**Until the next chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	127. Chapter 127

**BUON VIAGGIO**

It took several hours for Hannibal to be truly comfortable with all of the equipment in the birthing suite. He and Lora tested each machine and adjusted all of the settings. He would have everything perfect for the birth. No matter the complication, Hannibal considered the possibility and had prepared a response.

When they finished setting up the equipment and organizing the supplies, Hannibal made fresh pasta with a rich Bolognese sauce. He served it with homemade crusty Italian bread. The trio ate together, but when the meal was finished, Hannibal went to the kitchen and washed the dishes in order to give the women time to bond.

Clarice and Lora were talking, sharing stories about their husbands as Hannibal worked in the kitchen.

Lora was impressed, "I heard all the accounts of what an epicure Hannibal was but I only half believed them. It's incredible what a great cook he is. My husband couldn't boil water. Maybe that's why I'm divorced."

Clarice beamed with pride. "My H is a remarkable man. I'm really, really, lucky."

Hannibal returned to the room focused on the task at hand. He was carrying latte's for the women and a plate filled with homemade anginetti.

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I've already tended to the dinner dishes. If you wouldn't mind, I have to step out for a brief errand. Enjoy your coffee. I'll finish the remainder of the dishes upon my return."

Clarice dunked one of the cookies in her coffee as she spoke, "Where are you going, H?"

Hannibal shrugged on his suit jacket and explained, "I must run quickly to the mall before it closes to pick up the gift we discussed. I will have my cell phone if you have need of me."

"I'm sure I'll have _need_ of you later, H."

The women laughed at the innuendo. Hannibal, not at all concerned by their behavior, stood politely and waited for a response. When it appeared they were beyond an immediate break, he questioned, "Is this a private joke, or may anyone be privy?"

Clarice flapped her hands in front of her face, trying to stem the giggles. Finally, she got a handle on herself, "We were just laughing at how Lora's going to be the only person alive who's seen us _both_ naked!"

As Hannibal buttoned his jacket he humored his wife, "A singular distinction to be certain."

Lora blushed and joked, "I'm honored, truly."

Hannibal kissed Clarice and excused himself, "Ladies, enjoy your time together."

As Hannibal left the women, he opened the closet in the front hallway and grabbed the bag he stowed earlier in the day. He went out to his Bentley and locked the bag in the trunk. Hannibal then drove the ten minutes to the area where the intruder lived. Passing the home, he could see the lights on in the living room.

_Visiting with your cyber-harem my soon to be deceased friend? Enjoy your last pathetic sexual experience. It will fulfill my needs as well._

The Bentley would stand out in this neighborhood; that was obvious. Hannibal drove to the jewelry store he chose specifically for its presence in a small strip mall and proximity to the intruder's neighborhood. Hannibal parked his car, went inside and spent several minutes talking to the owner as he picked up the custom piece he commissioned.

Hannibal went to his car, and placed the gift in the trunk. He then opened the bag he placed earlier, switching his wingtips for running shoes. Hannibal then left the car and walked to the coffee shop located in the same shopping plaza. Approaching the counter he purchased a coffee and a pastry. Sitting at a table in view of the cameras he drank his coffee. After several minutes he stood and asked about the rest room, leaving his suit jacket on the back of the chair and his coffee on the table. He went to the bathroom and locked the door. Hannibal removed his tie and dress shirt, folding both. He neatly wrapped the clothing in towel paper, stood on top of the toilet and placed the bundle within a panel of the drop ceiling. Now wearing a tank style tee-shirt, Hannibal ensured he would not return in sweaty clothing, thus raising suspicion.

_As there are only female patrons currently, I'll have several minutes before anyone attempts to use these facilities. If I spend to more than ten or fifteen minutes at the home, I should raise no suspicion. _

Leaving through the window he quickly jogged the three minutes to the intruder's home. He had nothing with him aside from the Harpy tucked in his waistband, which he promised Clarice he would not use.

_I will rely on you for my weapon, you insolent ass._

Hannibal quickly scaled the trellis and moved across the garage roof to the window he designated as the easiest access point to the home. Within moments, Hannibal was in the home, moving quickly to the man's bedroom to retrieve a length of climbing rope. Making his way to the area overlooking the stairs, Hannibal hid himself, studying the movements below. As he waited, he fashioned a noose.

The young man sat on his couch, watching the pornography that was his nightly habit. Hannibal averted his eyes, waiting for the man to approach his end. Minutes later, Hannibal was still waiting. He checked his watch.

_Six minutes have elapsed. One would think with the frequency of your self-gratification, that you might be more efficient, my friend. Please be expeditious, my coffee is growing cold and my patience is wearing thin._

Seconds later as the man began to vocalize his end Hannibal began to descend the stairs. With stealth, the good doctor moved behind the couch and slipped the noose around the offender's neck. Hannibal turned quickly, pulling the rope over his shoulder. He then slowly lifted the young man from the couch and onto his own back.

The men were currently back-to-back therefore Hannibal could speak softly and be clearly heard.

Hannibal held him above the ground, cutting off the offender's precious supply of oxygen as he hissed in the surprised man's ear.

"You seem surprised to have me here, though I am forced to wonder why as your behavior demanded my presence. I told you this morning when you visited my home uninvited a second time that your life was forfeit. Now you see that I am indeed a man of my word."

Twisting against Hannibal's back the surprised thrill seeker struggled. He attempted to reach for his attacker, but he was much smaller than Hannibal and didn't have the length of arm required to grasp him.

Now raging, Hannibal's voice was more a snarl than anything approaching normal discourse.

"You twitch on the end of this rope like a marionette on a string, dancing for my amusement. You who dared comment on my lovely wife? What was it you discussed? Ah yes, whipped cream on the first occasion and fucking her on the second?"

Enraged as he stepped back from the door of his memory palace and released Predator, Hannibal leaned back, tormenting the man by giving him just enough slack to slap at the ground with the balls of his feet attempting to find relief. Leaning forward again, the beast denied the respite and gibed at his victim.

"It seems from your addiction to masturbation and pornography, the females in your world think better of themselves than to turn to you for sex."

Again, he tipped back and allocated a brief inhalation thus permitting the man to speak.

"I'd…fuck…your…wife…" Hannibal's quarry gasped.

Hannibal growled his response, low in warning as the beast demanded to be fed, "Do not disrespect my wife or I will forgo my promise to Clarice and use my Harpy to flay you."

He then jerked the rope and raised his prey's feet from the ground once more as he goaded, "Rest assured my wife is perfection and even if you lived beyond this evening, which you will not, you would never be man enough to please her."

Relishing the torture, Hannibal continued to dangle the man but did not yank the rope, as his intention was not to break the man's neck but to suffocate slowly. Though he was aware of his time constraints, Hannibal would enjoy this.

He lowered the man slightly by bending backward and allowing just the tips of his victim's toes to light on the floor. This relieved just enough pressure to buy the man a few more moments of life.

The man's lung's almost burst as he sucked at the air and gasped, "Let…me…go!"

Hannibal was amused by the demand and taunted, "You actively sought my company on two separate occasions and yet you have tired of my presence already?"

He dipped the object of his torment, allowing several gulps of air.

"Get…out…I'll kill…you!"

By now, the man's heart rate was dangerously high. Hannibal could feel the speed of the beating increase. Though he denied his fear with false bravado, Hannibal could practically taste the panic oozing from the man's pores.

"Your fear is delicious, though you wish to deny it. It fortifies me."

"Your…wife…will…find…out." The man offered in desperation.

Hannibal adjusted the rope on his back as he again lifted the man.

"This visit was her idea, my soon-to-be-deceased friend. I am certain you cannot be offended that I arrived unannounced as you yourself have made a habit of it. You claimed to have left my home because you wanted to, yes?_ Not_ because I frightened you? I wonder if you will admit that you are indeed frightened now?"

Gasping, able to squeeze out just the slightest bit of air the younger man gasped, "I'm not… afraid of you… you old bastard."

Hannibal leaned forward and denied the intruder his next breath. As the man's heart pounded with such force that Hannibal could feel it thumping against his back the good doctor lifted his chin, nostrils flaring and searched the air.

"As I have said before, your fear doesn't interest me, though the stench of it floods the room. Shall I admit to you how much this pleases me?"

The panicked man began to twist and turn. Hannibal, not wanting unplanned ligature marks to form set the man down slightly.

The man gasped and spat out, "You're…gonna…regret…this! Put me… down and …we'll make this a… fair… fight."

Hannibal laughed as he tightened the rope and stretched his target's neck.

"Does a lion regret taking down an antelope? No. My only regret is that I cannot see the life ebb from you, and my only interest is to kill you. Even if I were to let you down, this would be no more a fair fight than a kitten taking on a lion."

"I'm…gonna…kill…you!"

"No, you will die on this night in this way with that pathetic excuse for manhood barely projecting from your pants. The last sounds you will hear will be the loosening of your bowels as you pass from this life. Too, enjoy your last view of the lovers you wish you had, having the orgasms you could never give them."

Easing his grip as smoothly as a fisherman letting out line, Hannibal allowed four quick gasps to permit a response.

"Let me… go I fucked… plenty of… women."

The torment meaning no more to Hannibal than dangling a piece of yarn beyond the reach of a kitten, he lifted the man slightly, again denying him precious air. Hannibal was carrying his victim on his back, much like a backpack slung over one shoulder. He hefted him, momentarily readjusting the body weight wanting to feel the last twitches of life shake free. Hannibal educated, as if the man were a willing participant in this experiment.

"Precisely. You _fuck_ women. I have a spectacular wife because I make love with her. You will never hear the sweet sounds of a woman truly in orgasm. You believe the pants and screams of porn stars are how women sound in ecstasy. If she is truly orgasmic a woman can barely breathe, much less scream. You will die now, never having truly shared that experience with a lover. I pity you."

Again, Hannibal prolonged the agony and by extension, his own pleasure as he allowed the man to breathe.

Gasping, the offender threatened, "I pity…you when… I get… down. I'm gonna… cut your nuts… off! If… you were… man enough..."

Hannibal closed his fingers tightly around the rope and tugged just enough to lift him to the tips of his toes, forbidding the end of that sentence. He corrected, "If _you_ were man enough, you wouldn't have to ask me to set you free. If you had me in this position, I would be free by now. As to the part of my body you wish to cut off, I think my wife might have something to say about that and trust me, in my marriage, she is the one to be truly feared."

Suddenly, the cell phone in Hannibal's pocket began to buzz. He reached into his pocket, securing the rope with the opposite hand. He flipped it open and read the text.

_COME HOME NOW H! BABY IS ON THE WAY!_

His chest bursting with pride, Hannibal continually held the man off the ground finally choking off the offender's final supply of life's breath. As the man began to twitch out his last, Hannibal hissed, "Speaking of the proverbial devil that indeed was my wife. I do apologize, but I must kill you now. Though I have been enjoying our discussion my son is going to be born tonight as my lovely wife Clarice is now in labor. I am going home to the woman I love to assist in the delivery of _my _son. Sadly, after this night, your mother will be without hers."

The offensive man convulsed for several seconds before going limp. Hannibal quickly carried him to the door that faced the television. Tossing the excess rope over the door he then used the interior doorknob to secure the end. He allowed the body to lean forward, allowing the unconscious man to come to.

_That was too easy on you, my friend and my enjoyment of it, far less than I would like. Perhaps you will come back and grace me with a front row seat to your agony._

The moment the intruder's eyes, opened Hannibal lunged forward, teeth bared as if he was going to tear the flesh from the smaller man's face. Flinching in fear with the shadow of death upon him, the man began to cry.

Maroon eyes flashing like hellfire, Hannibal sneered, "Forgive me for refusing you a quick death, it is far too tempting to watch the life leave your eyes. Of course, being a good host, I am certain you would not deny me that pleasure. Please allow me to say, your tears are my nourishment; your suffering my sustenance. Your death will be exquisite."

Hannibal then tugged slightly at the rope, lifting his kill from the ground.

In sheer panic the dying man tried desperately to crab crawl backward up the door. Unsuccessful, the panicked victim attempted to reach for the rope. Hannibal grabbed a foot and tugged him free.

"Tsk, tsk…die with some dignity. Oh, forgive me that would be difficult with your sub-standard organ exposed. By the way, the stench of fear combined with the terror in your eyes was worth every moment of irritation you have caused, my dying friend. Before the light leaves your eyes, allow me to thank you. I would say, God Bless, but there is little chance that is the direction you are headed. In any case, Buon Viaggio."

Still holding the man's foot, Hannibal moved backward several steps. This action pulled the man's body away from the door. Humming Brahms's lullaby, Hannibal began to move the foot from side to side causing the body to swing freely. Smiling and thoroughly enjoying the process, Hannibal's voice was peaceful and soothing, though there was nothing peaceful in this death. The man thrashed and twisted for a few seconds. He lost consciousness in less than a minute.

Hannibal continued to swing the body humming cheerfully until the man's tongue protruded and the eyes began to bulge.

_I must say you are a lovely shade of mottled blue._

He then gently released the foot and allowed the man to dangle from the door, feet now touching the floor, though the man was beyond respite.

As the dead man hadn't the time to adjust his clothing, he was fully exposed with his own ejaculate still slick on his hands.

Surveying the sight Hannibal's skin crawled.

"Enjoy the carnal pleasures of hell."

Thankful the man had already presented him with the physical evidence and even more thankful he didn't have to come in contact with it, Hannibal wiped down the length of rope to be certain he hadn't left any evidence behind. Not that they would look closely. The death had all the earmarks of a classic case of autoerotic asphyxiation. It would be ruled an accidental death.

Leaving the residence by accessing the back door being certain to secure the locks, he left no evidence of either his entry or his presence.

_I am wrath…I am vengeance…all is safe._

Hannibal now raced to the coffee shop careful to stay out of sight. He moved through yards and in shadows as he breathed deeply, the adrenalin surging as his lungs expanded, drawing in additional oxygen. His heart pounded slow and strong as his feet struck the ground below. Hannibal's eyes darted detecting movement as he picked up animals moving in the background, foraging. Recognizing he was a predator, they moved slowly away.

The thought of the dead man hanging on the door like a carcass in a butcher's window caused the Predator's mouth to flood with saliva, imagining his teeth sinking into the flesh. The metallic fluid would have sated his appetite, as normally, he would have dined on some part of this man.

_If I hadn't promised Clarice…_

Forcing the thought from his mind as he slipped into the bathroom window somewhat relieved to find the door still secured and no one the wiser. He unlocked the door, washed quickly, redressed and exited, sitting for a few moments as he continued to enjoy his coffee.

His body highly tuned, Hannibal was aware he needed to come down from this before going home. He could not face his wife or trust himself to deliver their child in this condition. His body surged with electricity, his mind spinning with thoughts he dare not share. He was rage. He was fury. He needed to become husband, soon father.

_Go to Clarice…she needs you. Leave this behind. The family is safe…you must leave this behind._

Hannibal stood. As his mind began a long checklist, assessing his physiological responses in an attempt to regain some measure of control, he put on his suit jacket and walked to the front of the shop in full view of the cameras. He stopped at the counter and purchased an additional coffee to go.

Fussing with his watch he asked the barista, "Excuse me, my watch has stopped, can you please tell me the time?"

By the surprised look, Hannibal was certain the young lady recognized him.

She checked the time on her cell phone. "Sure, it's eight-thirty."

Hannibal nodded and smiled, "I must get home. I just received a message that my wife is in labor."

The girl smiled. No longer frightened as somehow the doctor's comment humanized him, she responded genuinely, "Congratulations, Doctor Lecter."

"Thank you…" Hannibal paused and read the nametag, "…Selena."

"You're welcome, Doctor. God bless you and your wife tonight. I'm sure the baby will be adorable."

Hannibal nodded and after placing a one hundred dollar bill in the tip jar, thus securing his alibi, left the coffee shop.

To anyone viewing the footage, it would appear as if, other than his visit to the bathroom, he was at the coffee shop the entire time.

Hannibal walked to his car and texted Clarice:

_ERRAND FINISHED- COMING HOME!_

She responded:

_THANK GOD. H, HURRY._

As Hannibal drove home, he allowed himself the final indulgence of briefly reliving the last moments of his conquest's life. He then opened the door marked Predator and slowly, wholly forced his primal urges within. Leaning against that door of his memory palace, he turned the key and secured the beast within…for now.

His baser instincts now fortified, Hannibal entered his home calmly humming Brahms's lullaby. He was genuinely relaxed as he ascended the stairs, right up to the moment he heard his wife scream.

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH**


	128. Chapter 128

**LABOR PAINS**

The moment he reached the foot of the stairs, Hannibal heard his wife call to him. Not the familiar, H. Not her normal lovingly sarcastic tone. This, his Christian name, was cried out, not called.

"_Hannibal!"_

The sound of it seared his heart. Hearing the pain leeching from her voice Hannibal's body reacted like a coiled spring quickly released. Spontaneously, he tossed the bag from the jeweler onto the table and sprinted toward the staircase. Terror tore down the walls of his memory palace calling to action all that he is and ever was to aid his wife.

_Clarice…_

Hearing the woman he loves vocalize her pain, primal instincts still fully engaged Protector burst from its door. The raging flood of adrenalin, combining with the increased hormonal output from killing the intruder earlier, caused Hannibal's heart to punch against his sternum as he ran toward the staircase. He gripped the handrail clawing hand over fist as he vaulted forward using the bannister as a spring board to further speed his progress. He reminded himself of her strength and the normalcy of the event.

_Pain is customary during childbirth. She's fine…the baby is fine._

The worried husband and no doubt soon-to-be father bolted down the hall and burst into the birthing suite. Out of breath, more from unaccustomed anxiety than physical exertion, Hannibal reached for his wife's hand and kissed it. He reined in his disquiet as he spoke softly, squelching the tremor in his voice to lend confidence to Clarice.

"You called for me, my Love?"

Just getting over a particularly intense contraction his wife clutched at his arm, the nails digging in creating small, crescent shaped impressions on his arm.

Hannibal could see the pain etched on her features the sight of which was disconcerting. For the first time since they were reunited, his wife looked truly vulnerable. The windows in Hannibal's unique mind suddenly aligned. He could see straight through from this point in time, to the moment she returned to the glass with the indignity of Miggs spattered on her face. Now, as he had then, Hannibal wanted to take her in his arms and make the pain go away, but now, as it had been then, was not the time for such things.

_I'm here for you Clarice…I'll always be here for you._

Settling down as the pain faded she gathered herself quickly wanting desperately to know what happened with the intruder. Though she yearned for the details she understood that topic would be impossible to discuss in front of Lora. The most Clarice would be able to garner would be a general statement or two. She breathed deeply to vent the remnants of the contraction, inquiring the details of his activities as covertly as possible.

"H! Thank God you got here in time. I was worried you wouldn't. Is everything okay? Did you take care of all of your errands?"

Hannibal understood the phrasing of her sentences contained a hidden inquiry and paused a moment to consider his response.

He squeezed her hand gently and assured, "All my tasks have been finished. I picked up the package at the jewelry store as we discussed."

"Okay, so you got the present. What about the other errands I asked. Did you get everything finished?"

Hannibal smoothed his fingers over his wife's hand, "I attended to all of your concerns without incident so you needn't worry further. There isn't a force in heaven or on earth that could have prevented me from sharing this time with you, Clarice. All is well and soon, we will be holding our son in our arms."

"So there'll be no unannounced visitors?" she confirmed.

Looking into her eyes, his firm and confident he winked, "Not anymore."

Now satisfied that his wife understood the individual that had caused so much concern had been dealt with, he continued to evaluate her health. She needed assurances that Hannibal had taken care of her concerns even as he needed assurances that her delivery was progressing normally.

Hannibal turned to the nurse and pressed her for analysis, "Lora…your assessment?"

Lora looked up, concerned but obviously in control of the situation.

"Her water broke approximately one hour ago. She only had two contractions at ten minutes apart. The next contractions went straight to four minutes and they've remained that way for the last twenty minutes. She's dilated 7 centimeters."

Hannibal began peeling the waxy paper from a small round foam disk and attached it to Clarice's chest. He repeated the process several times affixing the pads to various points on her chest, ribs and abdomen. He then snapped various colored wires to the metal points and fastened the wires to the telemetry pack in order that he might monitor Clarice's heart rate. He then wrapped a tiny wire sensor to the top of her nail bed, affixing it with a flexible adhesive tape to monitor her oxygen levels.

Doctor Hannibal Lecter, in full physician mode, was indeed an impressive sight.

Hannibal began making mental notes, projecting the progress of the labor, "What was the time of Clarice's last contraction?"

Clarice interjected, "Hey, I'm sitting right here."

In a tone that was slightly more condescending than his wife would have preferred, Hannibal spoke plainly, "Of course you are, Clarice. I don't mean to speak around you however, you are not the most accurate judge of your own medical status so forgive me if it seems I am dismissing your opinion. Though it is valuable, it isn't the most medically informed."

Pointing her index finger as if impaling the air she warned, "Watch it, H!"

With an extremely flirtatious tone designed to deflect her anger, Hannibal teased.

"I assure you, Clarice. I will be watching _it _very carefully over the next several hours and I must say, I am looking forward to it tremendously."

Laughing at the innuendo as she placed the oxygen cannula beneath Clarice's nose, Lora responded, "She was having the contraction right up to maybe thirty seconds before you arrived. She called out for you at the end of it and the next thing I knew, you were in the room. I have to tell you, it was like she felt your presence. It's really kind of surreal the connection you two have."

Calming now, Clarice added, "You think it's surreal now, it was really crazy when he was in Baltimore State."

Picking up on the word _crazy_ in conjunction with his stay at the hostile ward, Hannibal joked, "Was that pun intended, my Love?"

Clarice smacked her husband's arm, "Very funny, H."

Hannibal grabbed the hand that smacked him and bringing it to his lips, bit it playfully. Plainly proud of his witty contribution he agreed, "Yes…it was."

_He's always with me…like a bad habit._

Clarice pulled his hand back to her and kissed it lovingly as she continued, "Seriously, there's always been a tangible connection with us. I have to say, back then, because I was so young and he was so formidable, it really freaked me out. Now, that connection is more important to me than the air I breathe."

Moving quietly in the background as his wife spoke of her love for him, Hannibal smiled. He realized that childbirth was often a long process with periods of inactivity that could prove frustrating, especially for one as impatient as Clarice. Waiting for the next contraction he understood it was good for Clarice that Lora was there. She was friendly, and obviously caring; her presence would be a steadying influence creating the appropriate balance for Hannibal's intensity and Clarice's passion.

Lora laughed, "Baltimore State! It's funny, when you say it like that. You make it sound more like a University than the hell hole it really was."

"For me, I guess it _was_ like a University. I'll admit I learned a lot from H there."

After having seen Hannibal restrained and subjected to horrific treatment under Bloom, this topic genuinely interested Lora. She watched how unperturbed Hannibal seemed to be when the years of his incarceration were discussed. He seemed sincerely unaffected by the topic. Intrigued, Lora pursued, "Hannibal?"

Busying himself with the telemetry, Hannibal looked up momentarily, "Yes?"

"It doesn't bother you to look back at those years? I would think the memories would be painful."

Hannibal stood stock still for several moments as he considered the question. He honestly didn't understand the preoccupation the women had with feelings. He took the palm of his hand and smoothed his hair straight back from his forehead as he responded dispassionately.

"No, it doesn't bother me in the least. Memories are neither painful nor joyful; they are simply stored experiences. Though I remember virtually every moment of every day spent, I have no emotions connected to that place. While I was there, I occupied myself with pursuits that interested me very much the same as I did when I left."

Amazed, Lora proceeded, "But it was so restrictive. Doesn't it enrage you to think of that?"

"No, you can restrict a body, not a mind." Hannibal lifted the telemetry pack and reviewed the display. Satisfied with the numbers he continued to assess the situation. "Has she been given any pain medication?"

Lora, working fully independently from Hannibal, was currently palpating Clarice's arm for intravenous access. Intently focused on her task and as such momentarily ignoring Hannibal, Lora focused on Clarice, "You're going to feel a slight pinch."

The nurse pierced the flesh and adroitly placed the line. When Lora was certain the access was secured, she turned her attention to Hannibal. Shaking her head, her voice brimmed with compassion as she spoke, "What can I say, Hannibal? I offered but she refused it."

Checking her arm, running a finger over the bump on her skin caused by the embedded needle she tracked the newly placed line to the hanging sack of clear fluid.

Clarice pointed as she questioned, "Okay, so what's in the bag?"

Lora responded, "Just some fluids."

"Just fluids…" Clarice's proclamation the form of a question, "…no medication?"

Lora shook her head and avowed, "I wouldn't do that to you, Clarice. Hannibal's not only the doctor, he's your husband so he might have the nerve to overrule you, I wouldn't."

Not bothering to deny the pronouncement that he might not bow to her wishes, Hannibal kissed his wife quickly on the lips and rested his palm on her forehead. He continually brushed her hair back with his thumb, as he spoke gently, "Clarice, it need not be painful."

Adamant in her refusal, Clarice reached for her husband's shoulders and looked into his eyes, "H, I don't want any medication so don't bother trying to convince me by telling me it won't hurt the baby because you don't know that."

Though he heard everything she said, Hannibal ignored her declaration and immediately began to assess her condition. He reached for her pulse to gauge her progress as he spoke, "While it is true that most medications administered will cross the placenta and as such enter the child's bloodstream, it is not true in every case. If it were to happen, the dosage would be trace amounts and as such wouldn't significantly impact our son's health. The Apgar score should remain within the acceptable range."

Clarice emphasized her apprehension by grabbing her husband's upper arm pulling him to her. As her grip closed on the limb her fingers pressed firmly into his bicep, asserting her anxiety. She desperately sought to convince her husband that her fear was legitimate.

"Please pay attention to this, H…I'm worried."

Hannibal, hearing the abnormally plaintive quality to her voice, stopped what he was doing and took note of her obvious apprehension.

"Forgive me, Clarice. You have my undivided attention."

"H…you've got that enzyme problem so there's a better than average chance the baby carries the same genetic marker and I'm _really_ afraid of that."

"You have nothing to fear, Clarice."

"You're not afraid because you don't remember anything from the time they shot you with the dart because you were unconscious. H…you stopped breathing _right in front of me._ I watched you crash to the ground like a felled tree and you're a big guy! Our baby isn't strong enough to withstand that kind of shock to his system and I don't care how painful it is, I won't do anything that might hurt our baby."

Hannibal held his wife's hand as he explained, "There is nothing to worry about my Love. There is no guarantee that our child will inherit an insufficient pseudocholinesterase level. That mentioned if you have difficulty and I am forced to administer succinylcholine to prepare for a possible caesarian section or forceps delivery, I assure you it is highly ionized and as such will not readily traverse the placenta."

Clarice pulled Hannibal close and whispered in his ear as if speaking the sentence aloud would in some way cause it to come true. The worry in her voice was tangible as she unfurled her fears, "H if even the slightest amount does cross the placenta...could it kill our baby, H?"

Hannibal understood her anxiety and sought to assuage her fear. He wrapped his arms around his wife and spoke against her cheek hoping the contact with his flesh would lend comfort.

"No, Clarice, it could not kill our baby. If the child has an enzyme deficiency the abnormality would have to exceed a seventy-five percent deficit to produce a significant reaction. Trust me, there is virtually no chance of injury to our son."

Clarice held his face to hers and asserted, "No medication unless you have to cut me open. Got it?"

Hannibal remained joined to his wife as he relented, "Yes, Clarice. I most certainly do. There will be no medication administered unless I have the need to operate. But, you must agree that if I deem it medically necessary I will do as I see fit and I will not tolerate your refusal. I am your husband, and as such, am concerned with your wishes, but if an emergency arises, Husband must be supplanted. I will be your physician alone and as such, will consider your safety alone."

She seized him by the lapels and pressed against his flesh, "And you don't cut me open unless there's no other way, got it?"

This was a promise Hannibal did not wish to make. He was concerned, if the need truly arose and he was forced to operate, that his wife might waste precious time arguing. He needed to keep this option on the table.

"_Clarice_..."

Fully entrenched in her decision she asserted, "_Got it_, H?"

Understanding that his wife was making an effort to put their child's health above her own he yielded to her wishes, "Yes. I have it, Clarice. I will agree that you have the right to refuse medication if that is your wish. However, if your condition alters and the need arises I will disregard your wishes and tend to your medical needs as I see fit. Know that I will gladly face your wrath to protect your life, Clarice"

Suddenly, a contraction began to radiate causing Clarice to clutch at Hannibal's belt buckle. She began to tug firmly as this contraction gained strength.

The pain now firmly entrenched, she snarled, "Now is _not_ the time to _fuck_ with me, H."

A scandalous smile lightened Hannibal's features as he mused, "That is most certainly true, at least not for a minimum of four weeks post-delivery, though I assure you, I will be counting the days, my Love."

"Don't be such a…"

Before Clarice could finish her sentence, she winced. Lora checked the monitor as Hannibal checked his watch.

Hannibal was approximating the time elapse since the last contraction.

"Didn't you say the last contraction was thirty seconds before I arrived?"

Lora was positive. "Yes. Definitely."

Hannibal walked around the birthing bed. Clarice's feet were in the stirrups, but her knees were touching modestly. He moved closer to her.

Preparing to assess his wife's status Hannibal sat on the stool in front of the bed aligned directly in between his wife's legs. Taking off his suit jacket he rolled up his sleeves, placed his hands on his wife's knees opening her legs to him and proclaimed proudly,

"Okie-Dokie! Let's have a baby."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	129. Chapter 129

**THE BIRTH**

The contractions progressed to two minutes apart very quickly. Hannibal spent most of the time at Clarice's side with he and Lora alternating in order to check the status of the baby.

Clarice was alternating between calm and banshee, depending on whether or not she was having a contraction.

"How are you feeling, Clarice?" he made the mistake of asking a moment before the contraction had fully passed.

Clarice gripped his belt buckle and tugged hard, almost pulling his trousers down in the process. She growled, "I don't know, H…I've…never passed…a basketball… before."

Hannibal pried her hands from his belt and kissed them.

"I wish I could lift the burden, Clarice, but the child cannot dwell within you forever."

The pain beginning to ebb, Clarice drew in a deep breath and forced, "Fuck you, H…"

Seeing from the monitor that the contraction was ending, Hannibal teased,"Yes, please."

This caused Clarice to immediately slap his arm."Don't be such a wise ass, H."

Hannibal, having experience with distressed mothers, was unaffected by her anger. Her pain was another thing entirely. He and Lora had both attempted to talk her into medication but she had been adamant. She would do nothing that might harm her baby.

Hannibal would do his best for her, but in this she would suffer and the thought of this harmed him; he was surprised at how much. As he attended his wife, he monitored how dramatically her cries were affecting his physiology. With each whimper, each whisper of a gasp, his heart would pound and his muscles tighten. His chest wall, a timpani, his heartbeat the mallets pounding, rolling out the rhythm of her misery. He considered the impact it was having on his body as he assessed her progress.

"You are fully dilated…the birth is upon us, Clarice."

His son would arrive this day. Hannibal Lecter, for once in his life, could not control his body's response. He attempted to slow his heartbeat, to no avail. He slowed his breathing slightly, his respirations fast and shallow.

_All this from your voice…all from the sound of your cries…your pain is my pain…you are too much with me, my Love…_

Placing cool compresses on her forehead, he attempted to ease her suffering and by extension, his own anguish as well.

_You are a warrior…my brave Clarice. How willing you are to sacrifice for a child you have yet to see. If it is in my power, I shall keep your sacrifices to a minimum…_

During the times between the contractions, Hannibal doted on his wife, massaging her arms and legs, feeding her ice chips and speaking to her quietly about his plans for their future. When the contractions began, he would move to his place as her physician, leaving Lora to lend support.

After a particularly difficult contraction, Hannibal left the room for a moment to fetch more ice chips. Lora sat beside Clarice holding her hand to keep her company, talking quietly to keep her mind busy. Since Clarice loved Hannibal, Lora figured he would be a good topic to distract her.

"He's a heck of a guy, your husband. I'm surprised he's so attentive."

Clarice brightened, as she always did when talking about her husband.

"He always puts my needs above his. I'm really lucky. I tell him all the time he'd better live forever, because he's ruined me for other men."

Glad that Clarice was willing to share, Lora did as well, "You're really lucky. My husband was a good man but it was all about what I could do for him. Even in bed, when he was done, we were done. Though you won't be thinking about that for a while."

"Are you kidding me? With H…I'll be lucky if my stitches heal…if I have any stitches."

Lora laughed, "Well, I'm certain he'll be sure it's medically safe. Like I said, you're a lucky lady!"

Hannibal entered the room with ice chips for Clarice and a glass of iced tea for Lora.

"Thank you, Hannibal. How thoughtful," Lora expressed with gratitude as she sipped the tea.

The moment Hannibal ladled an ice chip into Clarice's mouth another contraction kicked in. She gripped his arm and pulled him to her.

"Oh, God…H…when will this…be over…"

"I have you, Clarice…it won't be much longer. You are very close."

Lora checked the monitor gauging the baby's vital signs. Hannibal watched her closely, sensed her unease and as such, was not surprised by her next comment.

Her eyes were focused, alert as she spoke calmly, "Doctor, we've got a problem."

Hannibal's countenance remained unchanged, though his stomach turned.

"Problem? Elaborate."

Lora double-checked the fetal monitors and, upon confirming, spoke in a very professional tone so as not to frighten Clarice, "The baby…bradycardia."

Realizing his son was in distress, Hannibal's heart sank.

_Focus…it need not be terminal…it is merely a symptom of a problem. Identify and solve the problem._

"Please closely monitor. I need to know whether or not the bradycardia is exclusive to the contractions or if it continues at rest."

Clarice held her husband, her breathing heavy as the contraction began to slow.

Though she spoke only his name, her fear was evident, "H?"

Still holding his wife Hannibal smoothed his hand over her belly as if to comfort, not only his wife, but the child struggling within. He made certain to keep his tone gentle and free of the stress that was pulsing through every inch of his body.

"The baby is in a bit of distress, Clarice."

Attempting to sit up, though the position of her feet in the stirrups made it impossible, she turned into Hannibal's embrace. With her face buried against his chest she pulled at his shoulders, imploring, "A bit? What's _a bit_ of distress? What's going on? What kind of distress? H…you're scaring me."

Her lamenting tone opened his heart as if a knife had been driven within causing the worried husband to pull her close that the contact might seal the lesion. He reassured his wife, though he could not reassure himself.

"There is no need to be frightened, I have faced this type of situation before. If he continues to struggle and I am unable to deliver the baby safely vaginally, I can perform a C-section."

Clarice urged, "I don't want a C-section, H…I want to deliver the baby normally."

Hannibal reassured his obviously anxious wife, his arms around her, his hands still cradling her belly. He whispered very softly, "There is nothing abnormal about a C-section. It is a safe procedure and I am well equipped. I have done this before, Clarice. Please…trust that I would not endanger you or our child."

"I know, H…I'm just scared…"

Hannibal kissed his wife, "There is no need, Clarice…no need. I would die before I would allow harm to come to you. You will soon meet your son."

Hannibal turned to Lora.

"Status?"

Lora read the monitor and evaluated the condition of the fetus. There was momentary relief as she spoke, "The heart beat is strong and steady. It seems as if the stress occurs during the contractions."

Hannibal's eyes shifted slightly as he searched his memory for a diagnosis. When he settled on his verdict, he declared, "Dystocia. Anterior shoulder likely."

Lora nodded, "I agree. Do you think you can manipulate the baby and change the position?"

As he considered his experience he was confident, "With some downward traction…yes, I am fairly certain."

Hannibal moved away from Clarice and into his position as her physician. She reached for him, her hand barely brushing his back. He noticed the slight contact but did not turn toward it.

_I must focus, Clarice…I must concentrate…I cannot allow your worry to cloud my mind._

Clarice watched her husband, attempting to read his emotions. He was a blank slate, concerning her even more.

_He's hiding his concern…what if this is bad…it sounds bad…_

Making no effort to mask her own fears, Clarice demanded, "H…what's going on? Don't talk around me like this doesn't concern me. You're scaring the living crap out of me right now!"

Looking up from between the stirrups, Hannibal spoke dispassionately, "Clarice, you know me better than that. I am concerned the baby's anterior shoulder may be having difficulty passing through your pelvis. Your pubic bone seems to have interrupted the process. If that is the case, I will attempt to maneuver the shoulders by applying some downward pressure. With very careful manipulation, I may be able to avoid performing a Caesarian."

"How long will you wait if you are unable to pull the shoulder free?" Lora inquired, obviously concerned.

Hannibal sat, unmoving as he held the life of his child in his proverbial, and soon to be literal hands.

He ran through a series of contingencies and considered the pros and cons to each, based on his knowledge and wealth of experience. Hannibal hoped for a worry free delivery, but that was no longer an option. He was concerned too, that his wife was an older mother and that presented risks as well. He weighed, in his mind, what he would do if forced to choose between the woman he loved and the child that had come to mean the world to him. She would chose the child…he would not leave that decision to her.

_Clarice…._

Focusing on Lora's question instead of the flood of uncertainties plaguing him now, he stated, "Not long…one…two more contractions. I can't chance more than that."

Needing to know what equipment would be needed she surveyed, "Ventouse?"

"If necessary. I actually prefer forceps. I've had more experience and honestly I think the chignon effect might disturb Clarice." Hannibal turned to his wife and explained quickly before she angered.

"The ventouse is a suction device whereas a cup is attached to the top of the baby's head and he is essentially vacuumed from your body. I would prefer to use the forceps if I must, as I have a better feel for them but I would only use them if I cannot manually remove the child."

Hannibal began to assess her body for the eventuality of an episiotomy.

Clarice was desperate for information, any and all information. Feeling a tugging in the area she didn't want to be tugged, she half-pulled her upper body in an upright position in an effort to see her husband. He was testing the flexibility of her perineum.

"Hey, Stud…what the hell are you doing?" she asked as she shifted uncomfortably against his touch.

Hannibal continued to probe the area as he spoke, "I am currently assessing the ability of your perineum to stretch. I must gauge the need for a moderate or generous episiotomy. I do not want you to suffer a tear."

"Okay…Whatever. What's the chignon effect?"

"The suction cup pulls the baby's head and forms a mark and a slight deformation. The effects are temporary but the effect is quite distinctive."

Before Clarice could respond, a contraction took hold. Though she was clearly in distress, Hannibal began to palpate her abdomen.

Hannibal was touching Clarice and attending to her, but as he began to speak it became obvious his statements were clearly meant for Lora, though his eyes stayed on his wife.

"I believe I can turn the child with my hands. There are a variety of techniques we can employ. Lora, are you familiar with the McRoberts maneuver?"

Lora was confident in her response. "Yes, I am. Are you going to attempt to deliver the baby by hand? No forceps or ventouse?"

Hannibal turned to Lora and nodded, "Yes, I believe I can. Are you in agreement?"

Lora considered the option and questioned, "What about fundal pressure?"

Hannibal shook his head, "No, not alone anyway…perhaps in conjunction with another technique. Alone it would do more harm than good."

Lora understood that the decision must remain with the doctor. She would lend him confidence in her ability to assist, regardless of his choice, but he alone must choose.

_If anything happens to that baby…he's got to choose. He has to be secure in his assessment and his resolution._

"I know the McRoberts so there's no worry there and I've assisted on C-sections, forceps and ventouse deliveries. I'll follow your lead regardless. He's your baby…it's your decision."

Frustrated with the lack of information or more directly, frustrated that she was being fully left out of the process, Clarice asserted herself.

"H! What the _fuck _is going on!"

Hannibal explained quickly. "Clarice, Lora is going to help you by pressing your thighs against your abdomen."

"H…that's going to suck…big time. How the fuck _precisely_ is that going to help?"

Explaining the alternative, Hannibal stressed, "It will suck much less than a C-section or having forceps grind within your pelvis, I assure you."

Knowing the contraction was bad enough, and the so-called maneuver would be more than uncomfortable, Clarice fretted, "Okay, what's that supposed to do beside make me look ridiculous and feel like shit?"

Hannibal began to feel her "For one, it will straighten the axis of the birth canal and allow the shoulder a bit more room."

"You said for one…what's two?"

"It will apply suprapubic pressure. This will force the baby's shoulder downward, hopefully free of the pubic bone."

"Hopefully?" As the question left her lips, a contraction forced Clarice to bear down. The urge to push became almost unbearable.

Hannibal, reading his wife's body language, wanted to take advantage of the contraction and move the birth forward. The baby needed to be born soon, or he might not survive. Hannibal turned from that thought.

"Now Lora!"

Lora bent Clarice's knees and pressed her thighs back toward her body, forcing them against her abdomen. She held them in that position, trying to ignore the pain and discomfort she understood she was imparting.

The pain and pressure more than she could take, Clarice cried out in pain.

"_Oh, God…H! Oh, God…"_

Hannibal's heart clenched, hearing her agony. He forced his mind from it.

"I am here, Clarice…you are safe. It is painful, but you are safe."

In obvious agony, Clarice panted as she snarled, "_Safe?_ Fuck… you… H…you're…never…coming near…me again…get this…baby…out…of me!"

"That is my intention."

Hannibal, hands gloved, reached for a needle and administered a local anesthetic.

Feeling the pinch, Clarice barked, "What the…hell was…that, H? I…said no…drugs!"

"It is merely a local anesthetic, Clarice. I am about to use a surgical scissor for the episiotomy. I don't wish to cut into your flesh without a painkiller. Forgive me, but from this point forward I am proceeding as I see fit. If this child is not born very soon the results will be catastrophic and I am not prepared to face the rest of my life without you or this child. If you have any complaints…save them."

Clarice huffed her statement, the pain and the awkward position of her body making conversation not only exhausting but practically impossible.

"Save…my _complaints_…Screw you…Save…our…_baby_, H!"

_If it is in my power…_

Hannibal probed the flesh with the needle gently.

"Can you feel anything?"

"Like what?"

"I have my answer, thank you."

He reached for the scissors and cut into his wife's flesh.

Hannibal then waited for the next contraction, slipping his hands within his wife enough to grip the baby's head.

"Here you are, Devyni. You'll be in your mother's arms in a moment."

The second Clarice began to scream, bearing down hard, Hannibal urged, "Push, Clarice. Push hard. I'll only give you one chance at this. It is far too stressful for the child."

Clarice began to bear down, the grunting as she pushed.

"Jesus…H…H…"

Hannibal could feel the thready pulse in his son's neck as he pulled gently.

_Hang on, Little One…be strong…for your mother…be strong._

Hannibal urged his wife, his voice strong and steady.

"Stay with me, Clarice, the baby is crowning."

The child's head began to push forward, the dark brown hair visible. Hannibal's heart began to pound as his son's head released from Clarice. Hannibal's heart flooded with warmth at the sight of his son's face.

"Clarice…He's beautiful, my Love."

Hannibal, one hand within his wife, he felt the baby's body to discern the position of the shoulders and arms. He spoke with confidence. "Clarice, I can deliver the posterior arm if you push once more."

Clarice pushed and as her muscles forced the child forward, Hannibal reached inside and felt for the baby's upper arm. He followed the arm down, past the bend of the tiny elbow to the wrist. Grasping gently he guided the arm across the width of the baby's tiny chest past the pubic bone.

"Clarice the head and arm are delivered. On your next push, I'm going to turn the baby very gently, almost like a light bulb. Push as hard as you can and you will soon hold your son. Are you ready, my Love? Can you do this?"

"Yeah…yes…I'm…ready…"

Hannibal prepared for his task, knowing the slightest misstep, and the child would be gravely injured, if it lived at all. Hannibal Lecter breathed deeply and exhaled all his anxiety as he counseled, "Push, Clarice."

Teeth gritting and eyebrows forced together Clarice gathered every ounce of strength left to purge the child.

Hannibal, intent on his task, he reached within his wife and with one hand on the anterior and one hand on the posterior shoulder he turned the baby counter-clockwise.

_Please Little One…your mother needs you…slide just a bit more. Come, Devyni…_

The posterior shoulder delivered first.

"Lora, status."

Checking the monitor she shook her head.

"I wouldn't go another contraction…he stops breathing with the contractions…the heart rate is too low."

"Yes…I can feel it."

Clarice began to cry…"H…H…save the baby…save the baby…"

Hannibal's eyes heated.

"Clarice, please…I'm doing everything I can…please, don't."

Hearing her soft sobs as she struggled to deliver their child, Hannibal choked back his own tears.

"Push, Clarice…Push."

As Clarice's body began to bear down, Hannibal continued to turn his son another full three hundred-sixty degrees. As the baby's face passed Hannibal once more the child opened his eyes, meeting his father's gaze.

Hannibal Lecter looked into the eyes of his child, the color as clear blue as the sky, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

The baby's eyes rolled as the compression of the contraction forced the oxygen from his little body.

_Hold on…hold on…don't go…don't go…please Little One…Sforza…strength…strength…_

Choking on his own panic, Hannibal applied downward traction.

Finally, the anterior shoulder followed.

"I have him, my Love…push…push…"

Clarice screamed aloud as she gave birth…gave life to their child. Hannibal pulled his son from his wife, umbilical cord still connecting within.

He held the baby for a moment.

_Breathe, Devyni…breathe…_

Suddenly the child gasped, and began to cry. Hannibal kissed the baby's head and beaming with pride, placed him on his wife's chest.

"Meet your son, my Love."

"He's our son, H._ Our_ son."

Hannibal reached his arms around his wife and embraced his family.

"I love you, H…he's perfect…"

"I love you as well."

Hannibal hugged his family, nuzzling his nose along his wife's neck, hiding his face.

She held him close, as her husband's tears poured onto her flesh.

Hannibal simply whispered, "Thank you, Clarice…thank you."

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	130. Chapter 130

**BONDING**

As Hannibal held Clarice, he inhaled deeply, memorizing the scent of his son. The child represented the joining of his body and his life with Clarice's and he needed to learn the baby's aroma. This task was intricate as the blood of his wife mixing with the amniotic fluid added additional notes to the fragrance. Hannibal nuzzled his face between the baby and Clarice. He slowly trailed his nose along the top of the baby's head breathing intensely as he concentrated on separating the additional scents. Though he enjoyed the blend of Clarice on the child, Hannibal wished to identify that which was specific to the baby.

His task complete, he straightened somewhat though he continued to hover protectively as he nudged his baby's hand with his index finger causing his son to grasp the digit, holding tight. Hannibal bent to his child, lifted the tiny arm slightly, and kissed the baby's hand.

Stirred to sensitivity by the contact he whispered, "This moment will remain with me until I draw my last breath. I promise, Little One, no one will take you from me and no harm will come to you or your mother as long as I live."

Understanding how emotional Hannibal was and realizing he had little experience dealing with such powerfully raw feelings, Clarice allowed her husband the freedom to bond with his son. She thought she should attempt to nurse, but it was obvious Hannibal was committed to a course of action and felt it best to acquiesce to his needs.

_Are you learning the scent of him, H? Finding another way to identify your baby? You need to know you can recognize him without sight, don't you? Do you know how special you are? I love everything about you…everything._

When Hannibal was certain he had committed the scent of his child to memory and the baby released his hand, he rested his palm for a moment on top of his son's head. He then kissed his wife and sat quietly beside her.

When it became apparent he wasn't going to speak, Clarice worried, "Are you okay, H?"

His voice was soft, "Thanks to you…magnificent, my Love."

Touched by the moment but careful not to intrude, Lora busied herself as the family bonded, keeping a careful eye on the clock as the placenta had yet to be delivered. She waited, patiently.

_They deserve time._

Aware of the time as well, Hannibal, though he wanted anything but, stood from the chair and forced himself from his wife and child. He was not only the husband and father, but the physician as well, and as such, had duties to perform. He reached for a clamp and closed the umbilical cord from the baby to Clarice, then placed a small white plastic clamp closer to the baby.

Understanding the significance of severing the bond between mother and child, he sought to lighten the moment.

Hannibal flashed a charming smile and with a flourish of the scissor joked, "Do you want an innie or an outie, Clarice?"

Smiling widely at Hannibal's irreverent reference to what might be her preferred appearance of the baby's belly button, Clarice countered, "He's your son, so, like you, an innie, H."

"Your wish is my command."

Hannibal gripped the scissor, and, breathing deeply, closed the halves of the tool over the fibrous flesh of the umbilical cord thus severing the tie from mother to son. He set the scissors down and extending his arms, very gently removed the baby from Clarice.

Reaching for the child she missed already, Clarice dolefully enquired, "H? Why?"

Sympathetic to her feelings, Hannibal explained tenderly, "The child has yet to be cleaned and you must deliver the placenta, Clarice. Lora will weigh and measure the boy as all the vitals must be accurate for the birth certificate."

The overwhelmed mother protested, "But I haven't nursed him yet. The baby has to eat, H."

Speaking as he walked across the room carefully cradling his son he responded, "You may begin nursing the moment he's returned to you though I wouldn't worry about rushing the process. It is thirsty work, my Love; he will feed every one to two hours."

"Still…hurry, H."

"You have my word, it won't be long."

Hannibal handled the baby very carefully and proudly presented his son to Lora.

"When you've finished, the anxious mother would like to begin nursing."

"Absolutely, I'll get this done quickly, I'm sure the new mom doesn't feel like sharing him for long." Lora, smiling from ear to ear, held the baby close and reassured, "Don't worry, Clarice. I'll take good care of him. After he's clean and I have the numbers for the paperwork I'll bring him back to you."

Clarice and Hannibal finished the final stage, birthing the placenta as Lora washed and measured the baby. Watching the intimacy of the couple and knowing Hannibal's past, Lora had a thought and wondered whether or not it would be appropriate to share with the couple. She thought it best, for now, to hold her tongue. Still, the idea intruded her thoughts as she attended her duties.

After urging a final push from Clarice, and receiving the organ that had nourished his child, Hannibal placed the placenta in a surgical bowl and moved it to the table beside him.

Lora, her task complete, swaddled the baby carefully, placed a tiny knit hat on his head and returned the baby to Clarice. While Clarice attempted the process of breastfeeding, Lora turned her own attention to Hannibal, now closing the episiotomy.

Still preoccupied by her thoughts, Lora reached to remove the bowl containing the placenta. As she picked it up and passed beside Hannibal, Lora noticed his nostril's flare, gathering the scent. This action interrupted her movement, stopping her for a moment. Though her hesitation was but a brief stutter in her step, from the shift in Hannibal's eyes from the sutures, to Lora and back again, she realized the pause had been obvious to Hannibal. Though his attention returned to his task, she could feel the remnants of his intense, yet fleeting gaze.

_Should I? Maybe he'll be angry or worse yet, insulted or hurt…or, maybe he doesn't know how to approach the topic with me here. What are you afraid of? Just ask!_

Lora inhaled deeply, girding herself for any and all responses as she asked as dispassionately as possible, "What do you want to do with the placenta?"

Lora had more to say but was still short of the confidence needed to complete the thought.

As intuitive as he was brilliant, Hannibal delved, "It is exceedingly obvious you have something on your mind, Lora. Please, enlighten."

Still unsure, she responded, "I don't want to hurt you or in any way offend…"

Tying off a suture, he spoke plainly, "Please, you are among friends. Speak your mind and I assure you no offense will be taken."

Approaching slowly with the bowl still in her hand, she began, "About the placenta…"

Hannibal pursued, though he was certain he understood, "Yes?"

Lora, holding the bowl that inspired her thought, continued, "…there are rituals in many cultures…some people take the placenta and bury it with a newly planted tree, and others…"

Clarice was preoccupied, attempting to encourage the baby to latch on and feed, unable to figure out how to make the baby find the breast. She joined, "Others what?"

Hannibal smiled knowingly as he responded, "She's speaking of the proverbial elephant in the room, Clarice."

Having attended to the baby, Clarice was out of the loop. The direction of the conversation escaping her, she quizzed, "Elephant? What elephant? What the hell, H?"

Hannibal asserted, "_I _am the elephant in the room, Clarice."

Realizing that Hannibal understood her meaning, Lora atoned, "Like I said, I meant no offense. I thought there was a possibility it might interest you."

Having finished repairing the incision, Hannibal placed the suture material and instruments to the side. His voice was passive as he spoke honestly, "Much as the thought appeals to me, I promised my wife that I would refrain."

Clarice was half-listening to the conversation, her attention more with her son as she sought clarity, "Refrain from what? H, what am I missing?"

Hannibal smiled, not at his wife's ignorance, but her innocence, "Lora is referring to the practice of placentophagy, Clarice."

His wife, no stranger to Latin, processed quickly, "_Eating_ the _placenta?_ Is that _done?_"

Hannibal very gently lowered each of Clarice's legs from the stirrups and placed them on the body of the bed. He cleaned her body as he spoke, "It is common among mammals. Not as common in humans though it is not entirely unheard of."

Not wanting to anger Clarice, Lora cautiously leant support to the idea.

"You can find techniques to clean and recipes for cooking one all over the Internet. It isn't considered taboo, just alternative."

Hannibal moved from the stool to the chair beside Clarice. Watching the baby struggle to locate the nipple and latch on, he reached across and stroked the child's cheek, closest to his wife's breast. The baby turned toward the finger and finding the breast began nursing quietly.

Clearly impressed, Clarice commended, "You are amazing, H."

"No more so than you, my Love."

Clarice watched her husband, his eyes lit with obvious activity, as he no doubt processed the proposed topic. She considered what he might be feeling. The idea of consuming something that had been a part of her body might be tempting to him.

_He might think I would find it distasteful or repulsive…do I?_

Reaching for his son's foot and running his thumb across the tiny toes, Hannibal was pensive as he considered Lora's proposal.

Needing to see where his head was at with this, Clarice questioned, "What are you thinking, H?"

Organizing his thoughts, Hannibal explained, "As the placenta not only supported the life of my son, but was a part of you as well, Clarice, consuming it would be something I would consider akin to a commemoration. That said, I promised upon our marriage I would forgo my cannibalistic tendencies and refrain from ingesting human flesh. Regardless of my attraction to the prospect, I shall keep that promise."

Clarice's eyes shifted to the side as she considered a topic that, five minutes previous, she had never even heard of. She thought for a few moments, quickly taking an inventory of her feelings.

_I didn't have a problem when he tasted my blood and really, this isn't any different. I think it would mean a lot to him. It would be my way of offering him not only my full acceptance of his nature, but my unconditional love._

Clarice clarified, "H…I meant not to eat human flesh from someone you _killed_. If you're interested in this, please, accept it with my blessing."

"Clarice?"

"H…I'm serious."

Hannibal's eyes shifted to Lora.

"Hey, I'm the one who raised the topic. I sure as hell won't tell if you don't. It's no one business but yours."

Seeking consent, Hannibal confirmed, "Clarice? Are you certain? I don't want to go against your wishes. Please be clear on this point."

Her eyes beginning to close, Clarice yawned, "How do you feel about it, H? Really."

Hannibal spoke plainly. "I would consider it an honor, Clarice. If you have no moral issues with it."

Clarice attended to the baby as she reassured irreverently, "It would honor me, too, H. Just don't serve it to me. You get placenta, I want bacon…as a matter of fact, make that a bacon cheeseburger!""

Placing a hand on his wife's knee, he agreed, "Fair enough, my Love. I shall take it into consideration."

Hannibal finished closing his wife's wound. He turned to the nurse, now busy transferring the information to the vital statistics form. "That was exceptionally considerate of you, Lora. Now, as in the prison, I appreciate your discretion."

"Not at all, Doctor. Would you like the stats on the baby?"

Clarice excited, "Yes, all of them."

Lora ran down her list, "Hannibal Lecter IX, born at 12:31 a.m. on April 26th weighs 8 pounds 9 ½ ounces and is 21 inches long with dark brown hair and blue eyes. Born to mother, Clarice Starling Lecter and Hannibal Lecter VIII in Baltimore, Maryland."

Hannibal mused, "I hadn't realized the midnight hour passed changing the date. Marcus Aurelius was born on this day."

Lora added with a note of melancholy, "So was my mother, Evelyn. I miss her very much."

The poignancy of the moment touched Hannibal. He walked over to Lora, gently gripped her shoulders and spoke quietly. "I'm proud to have my son share your mother's birthday, Lora. I have a something I wish to give you to mark the day."

Hannibal reached into the drawer of the bedside table and removed the gift he picked up at the jewelry store just before he killed the intruder. He had retrieved the package when he fetched the ice chips earlier, storing it for just the right moment. Now was the perfect time. He handed the small box to the woman who had offered nothing but kindness and sensitivity in the short time he had known her.

"This was my errand, earlier today. Clarice and I designed it together."

"For me?"

Hannibal nodded, gesturing for her to open the present.

"You wouldn't allow me to pay you. You have been an invaluable gift to us, Lora. This is but a small token."

Clarice leaned forward, wanting to see the expression on Lora's face when she received the gift. "I really hope it looks the way we imagined. If it does, you'll love it!"

Lora opened the box to reveal a 24carat solid golden heart with an L in script engraved in the center dangling from a delicate gold chain. The art deco styled heart ornately edged in diamonds.

"In honor of the birth of my son, and your mother. A heart of gold for a woman with a heart of gold." Hannibal embraced her as he spoke softly, "Thank you, Lora. I couldn't have done this without you."

Overwhelmed by the gift, Lora spoke graciously, "I wouldn't have missed it. I have to say that aside from the blue eyes, your son is the spitting image of you. It was a privilege to watch you work, Doctor. You truly are a gifted physician. Your son could not have had a better start in life."

"That's kind of you to say. Thank you."

"I think it's time we all got to bed." Clarice suggested, her eyes half closed.

Lora retired to her room, Clarice and Hannibal to theirs, the baby sleeping in the joined arms of his mother and father.

Later that evening, as the baby slept soundly in a cradle beside them, Hannibal, Clarice, and Lora sat down to a meal. Clarice and Lora enjoyed bacon cheeseburgers, the patties made with a mix of freshly ground beef and Italian sausage meat, topped with Wisconsin cheddar. On the side, freshly cut sweet potato fries and homemade coleslaw.

For his part, Hannibal enjoyed a rich, glossy ragout, the constituents not determined.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	131. Chapter 131

_**THE ANSWER**_

By the end of the second day, Hannibal was going stir crazy. It had been a lovely spring day and he wanted to take his family out for a walk, but thought better of it. Until the birth of the child was officially announced, the Tattler's offer made them veritable hostages in their own home.

This fact confirmed by Lora when she left the Lecter's to return home later that evening. She called Clarice to warn her of all the photo opportunists camped out in the neighborhood.

"I saw one guy climbing the tree across the street from your front door, Clarice," she warned. "And no one even knows the baby's born. When word of this gets out, it'll be bedlam."

Clarice hung up the phone and went to find Hannibal. He was at the piano with the baby in a portable infant carrier beside him on the bench. She stood behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"H, we've gotta talk."

Hannibal turned his head toward his wife, but continued playing as he questioned, "I am perceiving an increased level of what I am presuming to be cortisol. Aside from the expected anxiety of new motherhood, is there something causing you stress?"

Touching his body comforted her. She placed her hand on his back just below his scapula, feeling his ribs expand with his breath. Hannibal's impeccable posture relaxed slightly at the contact. Feeling his ease, Clarice sought her own, sharing her worry with her husband by seeking his counsel.

There was an ominous tone to her voice as she stated, "So, H…I just spoke to Lora."

Hannibal moved his hands gracefully from the keys, phrasing the final note with flair rolling up on his fingertips, lifting his hand first at the wrist. He set his hands on his lap, paused for a moment and arched an eyebrow at the comment.

"What would cause her to call so quickly? She hasn't been injured?"

Feeling his body tense at the thought, Clarice bent to him, kissed his neck and began to massage his shoulders.

"No, don't worry, she's fine. She called because she wanted to give us the head's up about something. She's worried about us."

Hannibal closed his eyes and allowed his head to roll back, obviously enjoying the attention. He leaned into his wife's body, resting his head between her breasts.

Clarice smiled as her husband reflexively placed a protective hand on the baby snuggled safely in the carrier. Though his eyes were off his son; his hand wouldn't be.

Clarice continued to knead his flesh, wanting to comfort him; wishing for the same herself. Not the massage. No, she was worried about her family. She needed reassurance. She needed Hannibal. Again she lowered to kiss his forehead.

Hannibal reached back and cupped his hand gently on his wife's neck holding her to him. He kissed her tenderly, her hair forming a curtain around his head. Sympathetic to his wife's unease, Hannibal sought closure.

"Though I am thoroughly enjoying this, Clarice, you entered the room with a thought. Please elucidate."

Clarice relayed the earlier conversation with apprehension, "Lora told me she saw a ton of people hanging around outside. She said it looked like people were camping in their cars. Seriously, this is a real problem, H…we've got to figure something out."

The music ended, having been with his father for more than an hour and needing to nurse the baby began to fuss. Hannibal reached for his son, kissed his cheek and handed him up over his head to Clarice.

"Your health and that of Devyni must come first, Clarice. When you are calm and the baby is sated, we will determine a course of action. The people of whom you speak are outside our home, not within and as such, pose no immediate threat. We are secure."

Placing the now empty carrier on a chair beside the piano, Hannibal patted his hand on the bench.

"My Love, sit, please."

Clarice, holding her son close, stepped carefully around the bench and taking a seat, explained quietly, "I looked outside before I came in here, H. There are people…_everywhere_."

Hannibal's eyes searched as he processed, "The individuals who've gathered are attempting to be the first to photograph our son to collect the Tattler's bounty?"

Clarice nodded as she sought a resolution, "Exactly, pathetic sons of bitches! What should we do?"

Turning on the bench to face Clarice, Hannibal rationalized, "It would then stand to reason, once the first series of photographs is published, there would be no further interest. Yes?"

Clarice settled beside her husband and, opening her blouse with one hand, turned open the flap of her nursing bra, and encouraged the baby. Pausing for a moment, she waited until her son latched, then concurred, "Stands to reason, but we don't have any control over which idiot takes the first picture."

Hannibal returned his hands to the keyboard and began to play a whimsical tune of his own composition. This spontaneous arrangement was light and carefree, his hands flying with precision up and down the keys.

He had come to a conclusion and as such, was no longer preoccupied by the thought. His mind was now running parallel to the conversation as his hands moved lightly up and down the keys. The question, and by extension his wife's concerns now seemed an afterthought.

Clarice nudged him with her shoulder. "What the hell, H? Are you ignoring me?"

Hannibal was confident in the resolution and believed Clarice would agree. He interrupted his playing long enough to assure, "Of course not, my Love. I would never demean your concerns. I have simply made a determination and thought it best to wait for you to finish feeding our son to share it with you."

Clarice spoke in a hushed tone, not wishing to disturb the baby suckling happily, "H…I'm totally freaked out over this. If you've got a plan that doesn't involve me going out there with my gun and shooting every last bastard holding a camera, I think I'd like to hear it sooner, rather than later."

Hannibal loved his wife's fighting nature. Ever the warrior in his eyes, he inhaled deeply, his swelling chest affirmed his pride. After a protracted exhalation, he declared, "My brave Clarice, I do believe you would go out there and challenge the masses waving your weapon to protect your family."

Nodding her head defiantly, she avowed, "Damn straight I would."

The baby was resting in the crook of Clarice's arm. Hannibal was taken in as he closely observed the intimacy between mother and son. His heart warmed at the sight of the woman he loved, feeding his child from the body he worshipped.

Somewhere in his vast store of sense memories, he could feel the warmth of his own mother's breast. He ran a hand over the child's head.

He assured, "If it were necessary, I would do no less, though I believe there is an easier approach."

Shifting from the sentiment, he placed that same calming hand on his wife's knee and detailed his thought, "Very well, Clarice. What is to stop _us_ from choosing the photographer and periodical to publish the first photo, thus controlling the process entirely?"

Unconvinced, she questioned her husband, "Why is that any different? Why should we allow people to make money off our baby? Screw them!"

Hannibal turned his attention to sheet music he had been composing. He picked up a quill, dipped it in ink and began making notations. As he outlined his idea to Clarice, the loveliest phrasing for the right hand came to mind. He wrote as he spoke, "We could require the paper or magazine to donate a portion of their profits to a charity in our son's name in exchange for the photo spread."

Feeling the baby pause for a moment, Clarice lifted him to her shoulder and began to rub his back.

"Okay, I'm game…what charity?"

Hannibal set the quill to the side and placed his hands on the keys testing the phrasing of his composition. Satisfied, he spoke as he played, "In honor of the mother of my son, I believed the orphanage in Bozeman might be an appropriate choice."

Clarice sat quietly with her son, now sleeping peacefully with his head tucked contently against her neck. Taking a moment to consider Hannibal's proposition, she allowed her head to tip slightly resting it on Hannibal's shoulder. Though she was intensely pleased, she didn't speak.

Hannibal waited a moment before inquiring, "What are your thoughts, Clarice?"

Touched that Hannibal would connect her lack of family growing up to the formation of their own, she rested against him, content to be.

The baby's breath huffing in tiny puffs warmed her neck even as her husband's thoughtfulness warmed her heart. There was an edge of feistiness in her voice illustrating her desire to pay back the Tattler for putting them in this position.

"I think it's a brilliant idea. It solves the problem, it screws over the Tattler big-time, and it gives back to a charity close to my heart."

Pleased with his wife's approval a self-satisfied smile evolved as he confirmed, "My thoughts precisely."

Clarice continually traced her hand in small circles over the baby's back.

"That's what I love about you, H. I get myself all worked up and pissed off, but you don't let emotions cloud your thoughts. I swear, if it were up to me, I'd go the that rag of a paper, find the son of a bitch who put up the money for that piece of shit offer, and pistol whip the motherfucker."

"And that is what I love about you, Clarice. You challenge everything. You aren't afraid of anyone. Keep in mind, however, the name Lecter has been on enough court dockets for one lifetime. Though I would love to see you mete out your brand of justice it wouldn't be practical to add your name to that particular list. As I am unable to breastfeed our son, you'll be forced to refrain."

"Very funny, H."

"Quite."

"Seriously, all humor aside, who should we allow to handle this?"

"I am of several minds on that point. I would insist this be handled with dignity. Other than that, I do not have a preference, though I have been considering the options. Do you have any thoughts?"

Seeing the baby was now soundly sleeping, Hannibal stood and helped Clarice from the bench. He lifted the carrier and walked beside his wife as she debated, "I suppose that would depend on whether or not we want a parenting magazine or a news magazine to handle the story. Or, we could screw them all and do a filmed interview."

Hannibal kept a watchful eye and a guiding hand on his wife as they ascended the stairs with their son.

"As I stated, I have no preference, though if it is filmed, you can expect my past habits to come into play during the interview."

Steadying her hand on the bannister Clarice was cautious of the landing as she held her son. She was caught off-guard when Hannibal brought up his past.

"Why, H? Would that bother you?"

As they approached their child's room, Hannibal preceded his wife and held the door. He responded as she passed, "No, it wouldn't bother me in the least. I am not ashamed of anything I've done, though I wouldn't want to put you in a compromising position."

Clarice very cautiously set the baby on the changing table as she questioned, "What do you mean a compromising position?"

Hannibal placed his hand on his wife's shoulder and gently guided her to move to the side. He retrieved the items needed and as he began to change his son's diaper, he stated, "You love me, Clarice."

Clarice wrapped her arms around her husband's waist resting her cheek on his back as she admitted, "Yes, of course I love you. I love you and our son more than anything in the world."

Continuing, Hannibal questioned, "And you are a warrior, yes?"

Stepping aside as Hannibal picked up their son and carried him to his crib she pursued, "What the hell are you getting at, H?"

Placing his son in the crib, Hannibal paused for a moment, watching. When he was certain the baby would not wake, he put an arm around his wife and walked with her from the room, turning on the intercom as they exited. Both parents understood he wouldn't respond until they were in the hallway.

Walking to their bedroom, Hannibal took her hand. He stopped outside the door to their suite, allowing Clarice to enter first. Upon entering he, put his arms around his wife's waist and pulled her against him, rocking slightly as they embraced. He leaned to her, lifted her chin, and kissed her softly on the lips. The moment they separated, he stroked his cheek against hers, speaking close.

"Clarice, you love me intensely, are guarded about my past, and sensitive to the way in which I am depicted. If a question was to come up that you believed painted me in an unflattering light, you would defend me vociferously."

Clarice pulled him close and asserted vehemently, "You're damn right, I'd defend you!"

Hannibal began to undress his wife, unbuttoning her blouse, helping her remove it.

Following his lead, she reached for his shirt and began to unbutton it. Upon reaching the final button, Clarice Hannibal smoothed his hands over her shoulders, slipping the straps of her bra down to her elbows, exposing her body to him.

Unabashed, his eyes seemed to caress her body as the loving husband admired her form. Hannibal sought to seduce as he reached for her breasts, smoothing his hands over the outer curves of each, as if shaping, sculpting them.

He explained his point, though his eyes never left her torso. "

You are rarely sedate in your defense of me, Clarice. If you decide upon a filmed interview, be certain the guidelines are clear and the person is someone who can be trusted. It would be unseemly for you to tell a journalist to go fuck themselves while holding our son."

Reaching for his belt, Clarice slipped the strap from the loops and, bending back the leather, opened the hasp. "Yeah, I get your point. What about the producer and director who shot the documentary with Bloom?"

Hannibal lowered the zipper of his trousers and bending, lifted his legs one by one stepping out of them. There was a faraway look in his eyes he stepped out of the pants and stood before Clarice in his boxers. "That's very interesting, Clarice. I hadn't considered that to be a possibility."

Clarice slipped her hands over his wife's hips, under the waistband of the undergarment and helped her husband step out of them.

"Why not? They were tremendous advocates for you. That crew was really respectful and the editing supported you fully. They wouldn't skew the story unfairly or it would negate their own documentary."

Hannibal was surprised at the leap Clarice made from the idea of photographing the baby and publishing it in print media, to the use of the video crew. He voiced his approval immediately as he began to assist the removal of her remaining garments.

"You never cease to surprise and amaze me, Clarice. That thought is actually quite inspired. Do you have the contact information?"

"Sure. When they came here to get permission to film, I put copies of the signed release forms in a file in the desk in your study."

Now both fully nude, Hannibal walked to Clarice's side of the bed, turning back the bed covers with the flair of a matador twirling his cape. Clarice voiced her thoughts as she sat on the bed and pulled her legs in. Hannibal covered her, then, proceeded to his side of the bed. As he slipped beneath the covers he sidled his body, spooning Clarice.

Hannibal pulled her closely to him. He continually kissed her neck back and shoulders, and spoke in her ear, "Would you feel comfortable making the contact or would you like me to handle the process?"

"I don't mind making the call if you trust me to handle it, H."

Hannibal closed his eyes. Of this, he was certain. "My Love, I trust you implicitly."

"I'll make the call. Would you mind meeting with them tomorrow if they're available."

"Clarice, trust me, when they hear the terms, with the amount of interest this story is generating, they will be available. Not to mention, this is an excellent follow-up to their original story."

"True. It would be better to get this done pretty quickly, right?"

"Unless we wish to be hostages within our own home, yes, it would be far more convenient to resolve this situation sooner, rather than later. I will leave the arrangements and the circumstances of the interview to your discretion. Be certain, however, they put the donation agreement in writing."

"Definitely. Anything I should stress."

"Only that the donation to the orphanage is to be based on an equitable percentage of the gross, not net profits, including ancillary sales to secondary markets."

"Got it...Is there anything else you need."

"No, my Love…your presence is all I will ever need."

Hannibal held his wife in his arms and slowly drifted to sleep. The cameras would return soon and he wanted to find a measure of peace before that time.

Clarice wondered if the cameras were indeed a good idea.

She was about to receive an answer.

**Until the Next Chapter, my friends.**

**LH**


	132. Chapter 132

**BABY ENVY**

Hurrying around the home Clarice was obviously a woman with a mission. Her husband trusted her to handle the initial contact and specific contractual negotiations with the production company and discerned he was right in doing so. Hannibal watched with love and admiration as she spent her morning fielding phone calls and working at the computer in his, no, _their _study

Hannibal had long known his wife was as brilliant as she was tenacious making him well aware she would excel at this task. This wasn't her first rodeo; she had extensive experience with the media during her storied tenure with the FBI. As such, she was far better suited to handle this than he. Not having any need for external reinforcement to secure his manhood, Hannibal was nothing if not practical. If his wife's gifts surpassed his in any area he deferred to her talents without considering it an affront to his masculinity. In fact he felt more a man each time she asserted her perceptual and contextual intelligence that he had been able to attract a woman of such power and intellect. She was amazing, his Clarice.

In this, Hannibal recognized her experience exceeded his thus he happily deferred to her without envy or reproach. In fact, his chest swelled with pride when he happened to pass the door to the study in time to overhear her pursuing a specific contractual point without giving quarter. This situation was shaping up to be the perfect proving ground for her unique combination of aggression and acumen not to mention an outlet for her exceptionally competitive nature.

_My warrior. My Clarice._

"They have no idea what they're in for, do they, my Love?" Hannibal spoke confidently as he gathered his wife to him, swaying her in his arms.

Clarice reached around him and settled her hands on his backside, pulling his body even closer. Their intimacy now so natural there wasn't a thought involved; they touched whenever they passed one another.

"They haven't a clue, H. You don't have to worry. I've _got_ this."

Hannibal spoke as he sought her throat and nibbled tenderly, kissing her neck and nuzzling his nose, drawing it along her flesh, inhaling her scent to mark the changes as her hormones fluxed.

"I wish I could be here to watch you work your magic, Clarice, but I think things would go much smoother if I'm able to draw a few of our guests away from the home. I signed and initialed each of your copies. If I've missed anything, I'll attend to it upon my return."

"Thanks for taking one for the team, H."

"Not at all, Clarice. I am more than willing to run the gauntlet to open a few parking spots for your friends."

Gripping his bottom and gently rocking her body with his, she began to place tiny staccato kisses on his lips as she spoke, "Still…it means…a lot…it…really…does."

The sexual tension between the pair seemed to increase incrementally with the time spent only partially consummating their union.

They kissed for several moments, searching each other's mouths, tasting one another and whispering their love between each tender caress. Hannibal noted the passage of time first and drew back for a moment, biting the muscles of her neck and shoulder as he spoke.

"Rest assured later this evening, I am certain I can find some way for you to express your appreciation, my Love."

Clarice, feeling the power she held over him, grasped his buttocks and grinded playfully against his body. "Hey, anytime…anywhere, Stud."

Sensing his response to her body against his, Hannibal pulled slightly away.

"Not, I think, right now, Clarice. If I remain in your arms much longer, the production staff will be forced to change the rating on their documentary."

Clarice handed Hannibal the large carrier that served the double purpose of their child's car seat. Clarice had taken a teddy bear, dressed it in one of their son's outfits, swaddled it in a blanket and secured it in the car seat. She tugged the visor low so the teddy could not be identified as such.

"Here you go. Fake baby reporting for duty, Dad."

_Dad…I'm Dad…_

"Thank you, Clarice. The Devyni doppelganger will provide quite the distraction."

"Yeah, well, you be careful, H. I don't trust any of those mother…"

"_Clarice!" _Hannibal interrupted as he playfully covered the teddy bear's ears protecting him from the potentially offensive language.

He chided, "My Love, this isn't the Bureau and your family are not participants in a jump-out squad. You _really must_ make a concerted effort to get a handle on your prolific use of profanity."

"_What?_ You're worrying about me cursing in front of a _fake_ baby!"

"The fake baby is meant to represent our own child, Clarice and while our son is far too young for the language to affect him immediately, your habit must be modified as he will eventually absorb your vernacular. I don't think either of us wants to hear at our first parent/teacher conference that our son refers to his teacher as a motherfucker."

"Okay, H, you can uncover Teddy's ears. I'll behave myself."

Hannibal removed his hands from the bear and placed one palm over his heart as he facetiously released an exaggerated exhalation of relief.

"Thank you, Clarice. Your effort on our child's behalf will not go unnoticed."

He lifted the carrier and kissed her goodbye to conquer his task.

"Keep the baby safe, H!" Clarice teased light-heartedly.

Hannibal bowed at the waist as he affirmed, "I will be ever vigilant, my Love."

Hannibal exited the home carrying the baby's car seat, knowing the base was already attached to the back seat of the Bentley.

The moment he exited the home, he was surrounded. He clutched the carrier tucking it defensively to his chest guarding it much like a running back might protect a football.

Arms reached for him attempting to turn his body but his forward movement could not be stopped. He blasted through the crowd as if bursting through a defensive line.

He opened the car door and placed the seat, complete with stuffed teddy strapped within, onto the base locking it in place. He was very careful to keep the visor pulled all the way down to shield the identity of the occupant.

Clarice laughed as she watched her husband, carrying the seat with his pretend-child strapped safely within.

Immediately surrounded by both amateur and professional photographers, Hannibal spun quickly toward the onslaught, glaring for a moment, causing those originally brave enough to approach, to jump back, terrified.

_Have you never felt a sudden rush of panic?_

"Doctor Lecter! Doctor Lecter! Can you raise the visor and show us your son?"

Hannibal flashed a charming smile, tipped his hat and replied, "Not likely, my friends."

"When was he born?"

"My son was born April 26th. If you'll excuse me, my wife requires rest and my son is in need of fresh air."

An older man eyeing an opportunity requested, "Where are you taking him?"

Hannibal pretended to ponder the question as he responded, "I have a stroller in the trunk of the car so, perhaps, a walk in the park."

The moment Hannibal suggested there might be an additional photo opportunity the treasure seekers scrambled. Smiling as their avarice produced the expected results, the good doctor checked the security of the car seat, locked the car door, and moved to his side of the vehicle. He opened his door and quickly entered. Satisfied that his ingenuity produced the desired results, Hannibal drove off appearing to be the lead car in a seemingly endless caravan of vehicles.

Clarice, watching from the security monitors began to laugh, "Leading the lemmings to the edge of the cliff, H? My brilliant, brilliant man!"

Moving to the study, Clarice sat at Hannibal's desk and sorted through each of the contracts she prepared earlier that morning. She checked to see Hannibal's immaculate copperplate inscribed on each signature page. Admiring her husband's perfect penmanship she slowly emblazoned her own elegant signature.

_Clarice M. Lecter… I love writing it…_

The production staff initially thought, because they met her when she was not fully herself, pregnant, her husband in custody, that she could be '_handled_' easily. They soon found out, as Hannibal already knew, in this power couple she wielded not only the power, but the weaponry as well. Her weapon was a well-organized mind and a nature that, after dealing with the dregs of society for the majority of her career, had been forged with strength of character, intestinal fortitude and with a healthy distrust of most members of the human race, the production staff included.

When making the arrangements for the shoot Clarice was certain to be exceedingly clear with the production crew. They would have access to any room at any time with the exception of the bathrooms. The baby would remain in his parent's room at night. Cameras would be allowed unless the door was locked. No one would be allowed to touch the baby under any circumstance. The cameras would be allowed in the home for one weekend. Friday morning to Sunday night, that was it. If they didn't get the footage they wanted by that point, they wouldn't get the footage they wanted; it was as simple as that.

Clarice arranged for an equitable split of the profits and had them designated to the Lutheran Home in Bozeman. Among the list of demands, no release of the unused footage, no personal appearances connected to the release of the material, still images captured would be approved with direct signature by Clarice, and the most significant demand insisted upon was final approval of any and all stills, and footage to be released along with the confirmed destruction of any and all remaining material.

Clarice was well aware that her husband didn't appreciate the scrutiny but would allow total access nonetheless. The couple rightly believed that if people had a clear vision of their lives together and a good look at the baby, they would be less curious. They wouldn't be haunted. They might be left in peace.

Regardless, Clarice clearly outlined exactly who would be allowed in her home. The production could film 24 hours a day using two twelve-hour shifts. Once the Lecter's retired to bed for the evening the cameras would withdraw unless the baby woke for his feeding. When the baby fell asleep again, the cameras would withdraw. No more than two camera operators, two boom operators, two producers and one director would be allowed in the home for each shift. All involved had to be fully bonded and must have been a participant of the previous project. No curious onlookers and no thrill seekers. Professionals only. The home's security system would be engaged at all times so that no one could be let in or out without their knowledge.

All had been agreed to so when the doorbell rang, Clarice welcomed the crew and directed them into the home as the baby slept.

"You can set all of your equipment in the formal living room and use that as your staging area. There are two spare bedrooms if anyone would like to utilize them you are welcome to do so. Hannibal has set up a buffet in the kitchen. He'll likely do that for each meal. The refrigerator is filled with drinks, so, help yourselves."

The friends arrived a scant ten minutes after the cameras were set up and the last of the cables were run. Barney held the door.

"Thanks Barnstormer!" Logan excited, "A new baby…it's awesome…Awesome."

Barney cringed at the nickname and grabbed Logan's arm as he passed through the door, abruptly interrupting his progress.

"Logan?"

"Yeah, Barnstormer?"

"None of that Barnstormer crap in front of the cameras, okay? And let's keep the _Dude _business to a minimum. Hannibal's an intelligent, dignified man and it wouldn't be seemly to have us all traipsing through his home like it's a frat house, got it?"

Barney, though almost as tall as Logan, was nowhere near as large. Still, loyal to Hannibal he wouldn't allow his friend to be embarrassed. He loomed as large as he was able, pressing his point.

Ardelia, seeing Barney had her man cornered, smiled as she stood beside Logan, now pressed in the corner of the doorway.

Panicked, Logan requested she intercede, "Hey, Dee, can I get a little help here?"

Ardelia laughed as she left him twisting in the proverbial wind.

"You're on your own, Logan. It's probably a good idea if Barney talks a bit of sense into you. You really shouldn't be acting a fool in front of the cameras anyway."

Logan squirmed like a puppy trying to squeeze past Barney but the older man boxed him out and held his ground.

Logan complained to Ardelia, "Well, you've got just as much chance of acting a fool as I have!"

Ardelia slapped Logan's bottom as she passed him to enter the home, "No, I've got the sense the good Lord gave me and some solid home training from my parents. You grew up with a surfboard under you arm and sand in your shorts." She turned to Barney, "Put the fear of God in him, B."

"Hell, Barney's a big dude, but I think Hannibal is scarier." Logan remarked.

Ardelia stood in the doorway, "If you really knew her, you'd realize Clarice is much scarier than Hannibal. Even Hannibal knows that."

Barney laughed, "Yeah, I suppose that's true unless Hannibal's defending Clarice and has a hankering for kidneys, then, all bets are off. I've pulled him off people. He doesn't look like much, but I had to break his arm to stop him. I just couldn't shake him free."

Barney slapped Logan on the back in a friendly manner with just a bit more pressure than was the social norm. He added with sarcastic encouragement, "I think he's got the point by now, _don't you, Logan_?"

Logan stumbled forward from the impact of the fraternal slap as he agreed overawed, "Yeah, I've got it, Barney; don't get your knickers in a twist. I'll be on my best behavior."

Barney allowed Logan to pass, amused that he had in anyway intimidated the much larger man.

Clarice waited on the inside, welcoming her friends with a wide smile on her face, leading them to the kitchen for the prepared repast. To the delight of the guests there was a festive buffet set up in the kitchen. Clarice, beaming with pride, guided them to the food.

"Grab a plate, fill it up and find your normal seats in the dining room. There's wine and drinks already there, so help yourselves and I'll be back with the guest of honor in a few minutes."

"Where's my Buddy?" Logan asked, looking around for Hannibal.

"Don't worry Logan, he'll be back in a few minutes. He wanted to make sure you all got in safely. He's out with the baby."

Clarice smiled at the reference as the cameraperson picked up on the conversation.

"What?"

"He decided it would be best to take a decoy in a car seat out for a ride. You should have seen all the photographers scrambling to take a picture of the teddy bear you gave him, Dee. It was hysterical."

Barney shook his head and laughed, "That's priceless…genius, pure genius."

Suddenly the door opened and Hannibal stepped into the foyer. He placed the car seat in the front closet and moved to the dining room to welcome Clarice's friends.

The cameras moved in to capture the moment.

Logan sprang from his seat, "Hey, Hannibal…good to see you, my friend!"

Hannibal extended his hand and shook Logan's warmly.

"Hello, Logan. Thank you so much for coming to visit."

Logan slapped Hannibal on the back in a friendly way, "Heard about that business with the fake baby! Pretty ingenious my friend!"

"I wouldn't want your lovely lady to be forced to walk half a mile just to visit."

Hannibal walked over to Ardelia and offered a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Ardelia was obviously pleased, her tone friendly, "Hey, Doc…good to see you again. Congratulations on your son. We can't wait to see him."

As if the baby could hear Ardelia's words, a soft cry came over the intercom.

Clarice stood, "Sounds like someone's hungry!"

Hannibal waved Clarice away.

"You rest, my Love. I'll fetch Devyni."

Hannibal excused himself to retrieve the baby.

Barney spoke first, though the question was on everyone's mind.

"Did he call the baby Devyni?"

Clarice smiled, "Yeah, that's actually my fault. When we found out the baby was a boy, I insisted we name him after Hannibal."

Ardelia was confused, "What's that got to do with Devyni?"

"Hannibal is Hannibal Lecter VIII, so I started calling the baby Nine. Hannibal said if I wanted the baby to have a numerical designation, to call him Devyni. It's the number nine in Lithuanian."

Hannibal arrived with the baby in his arms and a camera in close pursuit. He carried the baby to Clarice and bending low, very carefully transferred the child from his embrace to hers.

Clarice cuddled the baby, angling him to give her friends a better view.

Ardelia squealed and extended her arms excitedly, "Oh my God…I have to hold him!"

Barney stood up and walked over to Hannibal, leaning to peek at the baby as Ardelia swept him from Clarice's arms.

"He's a fine looking boy, Hannibal." He commented as he extended his hand.

Hannibal took his hand and shook it warmly, "Thank you, Barney. We are very happy."

"Delivered himself, did you?"

"Yes. It was quite an experience and one I hope to repeat soon."

Ardelia lifted her face from the baby she was snuggling and questioned, clearly surprised, "You two are talking about another baby already?"

Clarice nodded, "Well, if we want Little H to have a brother or sister we would have to get on it fairly quickly. Neither H or I are getting any younger."

Hannibal flashed a playful smile, "I don't know about you, my Love, but I've never felt better."

Ardelia beamed as she cuddled with the baby. "He looks like you, Hannibal, but he has his mother's eyes."

As Ardelia snuggled her face close to the baby, she cooed, "Look, Logan…isn't he gorgeous! Don't you just love babies?"

Hannibal and Barney both smiled, though Barney spoke the thought.

"Hey Logan?"

Logan was absolutely oblivious to that which Hannibal and Barney immediately discerned, "Your lady has a baby in her arms, Logan."

"Yeah, so?"

Hannibal joined in, "She looks very natural. Motherhood would suit her, wouldn't you agree, Barney?"

Barney was laughing out loud, "Absolutely!"

Ardelia offered excitedly, "Logan? Do you want to hold the baby?"

Hannibal smiled as Barney mocked, "You _do_ want to _hold_ the baby, _don't you, Logan?"_

Logan held up his hands in surrender and scrambled quickly to his feet, "Hell, no! No babies…I'm not holding any babies anytime soon!"

Ardelia marched over to Logan and plopped the baby in his arms.

Hannibal and Barney stood shoulder to shoulder watching Logan hold the baby in his large hands awkwardly away from his body. He was looking around the room for anyone to help extricate him from the situation.

Hannibal finally bailed him out, "I've got him, Logan. Thank you."

As Hannibal leaned to lift his baby from the panicked man's hands, Barney leaned over and whispered to Logan, "Hey Buddy?"

Logan turned, "Yeah, B?"

"_Dude_, you're _totally_ screwed!"

Logan, eyes wide, looked to Hannibal for support.

Hannibal smiled a mischievous smile and added with his best Logan impersonation just two words.

"_Dude…Totally."_

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	133. Chapter 133

**THE FAMILY PORTRAIT**

As pleased as Clarice was to have her friends visit, she was equally pleased to have them leave.

Hannibal waited dutifully behind his wife as their guests departed. Because he was standing in the doorway, he held the baby to his chest with his son's face nestled against his neck, Hannibal's large hand carefully cupping the baby's head to shield him from the cameras outside.

Swarmed with photographers barking questions, the visitors moved quickly to their cars serpentining through the people amassed to see the baby. Barney ducked swiftly into his sedan astutely avoiding the pressing crowd. Logan, on the other hand, waved enthusiastically as people shouted their questions. Barney rolled his eyes. It was obvious to all concerned Logan loved the attention.

Barney laughed as he drove off.

_Well at least he didn't act a fool 'til he got outside._

An attractive female journalist following the story thrust a microphone in Logan's face. He turned, recognizing her as a reporter for a local news affiliate.

The reporter, seeing the glimmer of recognition in Logan's eyes, smiled widely to entice an answer as she questioned, "Who are you, Sir? Did you see the baby?"

"What baby?" Logan teased as he closed the car door he now habitually held for Ardelia. Without pausing he walked briskly around the back of his car to the driver's side of the vehicle.

The reporter followed him closely, microphone still extended as she jogged around the car to keep up with Logan's much longer stride.

The amiable agent turned and with a casual snap of his head whipped his wavy hair back from his face as he opened the driver's side door. Realization dawning he paused standing beside the open car door and asked," How do you know about a baby anyway? Hannibal and Clarice never announced it?"

The reporter, seeking information of her own, offered some in return, "A birth certificate was filed with the Bureau of Vital Statistics. Whom does he look like, Sir?"

Logan answered in his typically playful fashion, "What's with the Sir, crap? I'm no Sir I'm the baby's uncle and I don't know who he looks like, I only know he sure as hell doesn't look like me!"

Knowing both Hannibal and Clarice had no known living relatives and thinking she had uncovered a story, the woman pressed for details, "You're the baby's uncle? Are you related to Clarice, or Hannibal?"

Logan's already massive chest puffed with pride.

"Clarice helped train me at the FBI and Hannibal is my brother from another mother. That makes me the baby's uncle!"

The woman realized Logan was ratings gold if she could get him to talk.

"So, you're close with the couple?"

Logan was indignant thinking anyone would question his closeness with the family.

"I was inside wasn't I? _I_ held the baby, _did you_? Hell yes, I'm close with them. They're awesome and you can tell everyone that watches your show that baby's got the best parents in the world. He's a lucky little guy."

Experience pressing her to continue, she probed, "Can you tell us anything? Does he have his father's eyes?"

Ardelia leaned across the front seat, curled her thumb and index finger, placed them within her mouth and expressed a quick burst of air. This created an ear-piercing whistle. The moment she had her boyfriend's attention she insisted,"Logan, close your mouth, stop playing around and get in the car…now!"

Logan shuddered visibly the moment he noticed Ardelia glaring at him. Taking the hint, he stepped into the car turned to the reporter just before he closed the car door and answered, "You want to know what color the baby's eyes are?"

The reporter reacted with obvious interest, "Yes, I would love to know!"

Pulling the door closed he offered, "Then go knock on the door and ask his father."

As he pulled away from the curb Logan was forced to weave attempting to avoid hitting the reporters, paparazzi, and curiosity seekers. He beeped the horn, stuck his muscular arm out of the sunroof and waved as he drove down the street.

Clarice stood in the doorway laughing at Logan's antics. "That boy is a bit touched in the head. A real character, wouldn't you say, H?"

"Touched? Grabbed is more like it, and yes, he is a character, but more to the point, he _has_ character. Logan is loyal and that is rare." Hannibal kissed his wife on top of her head.

"Clarice, I'll handle the dishes if you'll mind the baby."

Leaning her head against his chest for a moment she responded, "Seems like I got the better of that deal, H."

Resting his cheek on the top of her head he spoke very softly. "As planned, yes. You deserve time with the baby, Clarice. I don't believe Ardelia released the child for more than a minute the entire duration of her visit."

Clarice wrapped her arms around her husband, looked into his eyes and smiled.

"She gave him up just long enough to hand him to Logan. Did you see the panic in his eyes? It was priceless."

Hannibal was obviously in full agreement. He concurred, "Did you see how quickly I removed our son from his tentative grasp? I was concerned in his panic he might drop him. I believe their relationship is about to enter another phase, whether or not our friend, Mr. Marley is prepared."

Clarice rubbed a hand on the baby's back as she spoke, "Yeah, well, if Logan can't hear her biological clock ticking he's even more deaf than he is dense."

The producer stepped forward with her clipboard, waving a tentative hand to get Clarice's attention. She spoke very quietly trying not to be impolite as she interrupted.

"Excuse me, we've got several points to go over so if either one, or both of you have a few minutes we would benefit from a brief meeting."

Seeking a quick exit, Hannibal kissed his wife and handed her the baby.

"I'm certain you can handle this without my input, Clarice. I'll be in the kitchen should you need me." He turned to the producer and nodded an acknowledgement, "If you'll excuse me, I shall leave your concerns in my wife's capable hands."

One camera followed Clarice. One camera followed Hannibal.

Wasting no time, Clarice spoke as she walked with the producer toward the formal living room. She was direct in her questioning, "So, what's up? You've obviously got something on your mind."

Appreciating Clarice's straightforward nature she spoke, "We'd like to take a formal photo of the family. We'll put it out as the official portrait tomorrow, so the Tattler will lose the hopes of publishing the first photos so the crowds outside should disperse. Would your husband agree to sit?"

Clarice was confident in her response.

"Sure, he'll agree. When do you want to do this?"

"If you're sure we'd like to do this as soon as possible."

Clarice considered the needs of her family before responding, "Well, the baby needs to eat, and I'm sure Hannibal will want to shower. Why don't we say two hours from now? That way, Hannibal will be ready and the baby will have had a nap. You won't get much of a photo if the baby is crying."

Checking a list of proposed shots the producer assessed, "Sure…that'd be great."

Rocking back and forth as she cuddled her child, Clarice watched the woman carefully as she considered, "Did you have anything in mind? Setting? Clothing?"

The producer stood for a moment and debated. She then shook her head, hugged the clipboard to her chest and decided, "I'll leave that for you and Doctor Lecter. It's your family portrait, so, you two should decide what it's going to look like. You have final approval over the images anyway."

"I'll talk to H and see what his opinion is."

Clarice walked around the lower level of the home but her husband was nowhere to be found. She went to the second floor and was directed by the cameraman to their bathroom. She knocked on the door.

"Hey, H? Are you decent?"

"That depends on to whom you speak, Clarice. I am clothed, though I would have allowed you entrance regardless."

Seeing he was nodding off in her arms, Clarice set the baby in his crib and opened the bathroom door.

"What's going on H?"

Hannibal was seated on the toilet, the cover having been closed.

"Nothing, Clarice, why do you ask?"

"Because I looked all over the house for you and I find you in the bathroom but you aren't using the toilet and you're not showering."

Hannibal put his arms around his wife, opened his legs and pulled her down gently guiding her to sit on his lap. He kissed her tenderly before answering, "It's your fault, my Love."

"Clarice sought his lips and kissed him. The kiss began tentatively, each partner briefly touching their lips to the other. They parted for a moment leading Clarice to question for clarity, "How's that?"

Wrapping his arms around his wife he hugged her tightly as he answered, "You specified the bathrooms as the only camera free zone, therefore, as I wanted a moment that was not being recorded, I sought refuge in the only area designated as such."

Clarice tried to hide her amusement, but to no avail. She laughed as she questioned, "So, you've just been sitting in the bathroom?"

Nodding as he rested his head on her breasts, Hannibal responded, "Yes. Does that thought amuse you, Clarice?"

"I don't know. Seems a bit funny…I…mean, it's a _bathroom_."

"It is a bathroom with a _door,_ Clarice. If you remember the accommodations provided me by Doctor Chilton the placement of my toilet was a mere arm's length from my bed in front of a rather large window. You can trust my honesty when I say if he believed I might have need of that toilet, dear Freddie rather enjoyed inviting people to the viewing area. I spent more than eight years of my life without benefit of a privacy shade or divider, therefore, I am not ashamed to say that I value time spent in a bathroom with a door."

No longer laughing as she considered the insensitive nature of the comment, Clarice was penitent. "Sorry, H…that should've dawned on me."

No where near as affected by the comment as Clarice, Hannibal reproached, "My Love, you needn't apologize."

"Still, I do that all the time…"

Hannibal insisted, "Clarice, there is no need. You sought me out with a purpose, yes?"

Realizing she had gone fully off the track, Clarice explained, "The producer wants a family portrait, so I thought we could shower and dress while the baby takes his nap. I just have no idea what we should wear."

"You purchased a very handsome linen outfit for Devyni and I have a linen suit that is very similar."

Clarice was unenthused, "So you two will look spectacular and I wear what?"

"The MaxMara Nehru dress I purchased for you at Saks Fifth Avenue. It would pair nicely with my suit."

"Oh my God, I've been pregnant so long I forgot all about that dress. Do you think it will fit?"

"I'm certain of it. When I made the purchase online I was careful to order the dress slightly larger to accommodate the post-delivery time period; I wanted you to have something lovely to wear after the birth. I understand how you must feel with your body undergoing such transition."

Clarice put her arms around her husband.

"That's what I love about you H…you buy a woman a fat dress and you make her feel good about wearing it. That's a rare gift!"

"Trust me, Clarice. There is nothing fat about you, and I assure you, I will find you as attractive wearing that dress as I find you wearing nothing at all. As to any potential gifts I might posses, the formation of my family is that gift."

As she had stated many times before, whenever Hannibal did something particularly thoughtful Clarice stated simply, "You're a smart man, Hannibal Lecter."

Hannibal's answer, as always, "One tries, my Love."

Hannibal showered and dressed while Clarice fed the baby. When she finished, she retired to the bathroom to shower leaving Hannibal the task of washing and dressing his son.

One cameraperson followed Hannibal to the baby's room and filmed as the protective father set his baby down in the crib; his eyes ever watchful that no one attempt to approach the boy. When the producer sought a better angle and moved too close to the crib for Hannibal's comfort he turned quickly, his eyes hawk-like as he zoned in on the woman. His eyes flashed a warning, though his features appeared unchanged. Unwilling to tempt fate or his wrath, the woman swiftly backed off.

Feeling secure, Hannibal retrieved the small infant bathtub from the bathroom and filled it with warm water placing the small vessel on the baby's changing table.

Preparing to bathe his son, Hannibal removed his jacket, vest and shirt, hanging all on a hanger and placing the garments on a hook in the baby's closet. From the waist up he wore now wore a tank style tee shirt so as not to rumple his clothing for the photo shoot.

Walking over to the crib, Hannibal removed the baby's clothing, wrapped him in a towel and carried him to the bath. Very smoothly he turned the baby onto his forearm supporting the head at the bend of his elbow, removing the towel. Turning his son gently, the careful dad tested the water with his elbow. Confirming the safety, he very gently set the boy in the water. Washing the baby carefully, Hannibal smiled as Devyni splashed the water, flinching as he splattered his own face from the back-splash.

"This is much more comfortable than a copper basin warming in the sun, yes, Little One?"

As he lovingly washed his son, Hannibal hummed Vivaldi. The moment seemed calm, still, he was anything but. Though there was no threat perceived, no sense of foreboding of any kind, his home was filled with strangers and that kept him alerted.

From his periphery Hannibal could see the boom operator catch the eye of the producer and arch his eyebrows in surprise. It was obvious to Hannibal they were caught off-guard by his paternal tenderness.

Though the production staff often spoke to Clarice as they filmed, they rarely addressed Hannibal. With the respectful trepidation of admiring a predator in its natural habitat, they observed him silently.

The baby bathed, Hannibal spread his large hand and tipped the boy forward onto his palm supporting his son's ribs and abdomen lifting him just enough to wrap the towel around him. He then turned him over carefully supporting the head and neck as he carried him to the crib.

Clarice stood in the doorway, placing her fingers to her lips so the crew wouldn't alert her husband to her presence.

Hannibal placed the baby within the crib and paused. His body straightened, though he didn't speak.

The producer gripped the arm of the camera operator signaling not to miss the shot.

Hannibal stiffened as his nostrils flared, his back turned as he spoke, "Still playing games I see, my Love."

Clarice rushed into the room and put her arms around her husband, resting her head on his back as he finished dressing their son.

"No, not playing games, H…just admiring you with your son."

Hannibal lifted his son holding the now fully dressed boy to his chest and turned his body into his wife's embrace. Clarice took the baby and kissed her husband.

Adamantly correcting his wife for the camera Hannibal stressed, "_Our son_, Clarice."

"Sorry…of course, _our _son, H. As much as it pains me to see you putting clothing on instead of taking it off, you'd better finish dressing so we can get this portrait out of the way."

"Of course, whatever you say, Clarice."

Hannibal opened the closet and dressed himself in full view of the camera. It was no matter to him. He had lived under far more scrutiny and had been viewed with far less clothing. The cameras were something to be used rather than anything else.

Clarice carried the baby as she and Hannibal walked to the living room escorted by the film crew. Hannibal walked very closely beside his wife, his hand settled protectively on the gentle curve of the small of her back; his eyes everywhere as he perused the crew. Continually assessing for danger with his senses, his nostrils occasionally flared, drawing in the air, testing.

_No danger…all is well._

The producer moved around the room, sliding a chair into the center of the space.

"Okay. We thought you might want a classic pose. Maybe Clarice can sit on the chair holding the baby and Doctor Lecter can stand beside the chair."

Hannibal shook his head and spoke, "Please allow me." He led Clarice join him. He took the baby and turned him in her arms so his head was cradled in the crook of her elbow facing out toward the camera.

"Put your right hand on my chest, Clarice and look toward the camera."

Clarice placed her hand on the center of her husband's chest, just over his heart.

Hannibal wrapped his arms protectively around his wife, embracing her.

"When you are ready," he stated indicating this was the pose he favored.

The photographer stepped forward to capture the moment. Hannibal rested his cheek on Clarice's head and looked at the camera, his eyes flashing as the shutter released.

The producer looked over to the photographer who was smiling widely.

"It's perfect…it's absolutely perfect."

The producer rushed to look at the viewfinder and review the captured image. When the photo streamed across the screen, the woman smiled as well.

"We won't be needed anything else. This will make the Tattler scream with envy. Care to take a look, Clarice? Hannibal?"

"Clarice is responsible for such decisions." He turned to his wife, "Clarice, if you approve, I should like to spend some time in the music room."

Clarice looked at the image and back to her husband.

"Go play piano, H…we're done here."

Hours later, Hannibal and Clarice were sleeping soundly in their bedroom. As agreed, the camera operators and production staff waited for the baby to wake for his nighttime feeding to capture it on video. The moment the baby began to cry, a female camera operator, and the producer entered the bedroom quietly and began filming.

Hannibal stirred first, placing a hand on Clarice's shoulder indicating he would bring the baby to her. Normally sleeping unclothed, for the benefit of the cameras Hannibal wore a pair of silk pajama bottoms, though he remained shirtless. He rose from the bed, scrubbing his hand vigorously through his hair, seeking to shake sleep from his mind.

In his sleep, the baby spit up on his pajama, so Hannibal quickly removed the clothing and changed the baby's diaper. He then carried his son to Clarice wearing no more than his diaper, planning to dress the baby in fresh clothing the moment his was finished feeding.

Hannibal noticed Clarice wore a silk nightgown with spaghetti straps. The nightgown would provide little warmth.

"The fabric of your sleepwear will not warm our Little One. Keep him against your bare body, my Love. That will provide enough heat for his body as he feeds. I'll dress him again when he's finished at your breast."

Hannibal placed the baby in his wife's arms and lowered the strap of her negligee. He then gathered his wife in his embrace, pulling her close. Clarice cuddled against her husband, using his bicep as her pillow, her bare flesh melding against his their combined body heat keeping their child warm.

Clarice held the baby against her body, snuggling with Hannibal to provide extra warmth. Hannibal fell asleep holding his wife in his arms as their child nursed at her breast.

The photographer captured this moment of intimacy as mother tenderly nursed her child at her bare breast wrapped safely within her husband's loving embrace.

This would be the portrait distributed for publication.

Clarice approved.

**Until the next chapter my friends,**

**LH**


	134. Chapter 134

**PERFECTION**

The photo Clarice chose, along with the birth announcement and details of the companion documentary, was published in virtually every newspaper, periodical and news service with the exception of the Tattler, expressly denied permission. This appealed to Clarice's sense of fair play and Hannibal's provisionally tempered vengeance. The Tattler's editors endangered their family by offering the bounty for the photograph and as such there was no way either Hannibal or Clarice would see them benefit. Clarice would have died before she let that happen. Hannibal would have killed for less.

Hannibal, never an early riser, was struggling to adjust his sleep schedule as any new father would. The agreement had been made between the couple that because Clarice had chosen thus far not to pump her breast milk, making it impossible for Hannibal to feed their son, he would be responsible for taking the baby from his crib and bringing him to Clarice. Once the baby was brought to Clarice for the morning feeding the exhausted dad went to the kitchen to prepare the breakfast buffet for the crew.

He was not surprised that he was allowed to work quietly with minimal interaction or interruption from the production staff. After all, they were waiting for their meal and any disruptions would delay the repast.

While nothing was particularly out of place this morning seemed just a bit off, alerting Hannibal's rapacious suspicion. Most would not have noticed the very slight dissimilarity, the inconsequential variation in the behavior of the crew. Though it was all but imperceptible, the deviation screamed for Hannibal's attention.

_There is a definite change in their scent and demeanor. Though they have been cautious in my presence, there is worry. Something has happened._

Not perceiving an obvious accelerant and responding as well to his lack of uninterrupted sleep he was unsettled by the shift. Hannibal's predatory gifts were now focused intently as he set about watching the movements and interactions surrounding him to determine what potential grounds might explain the variant.

_All is well with Clarice and young Hannibal therefore, something else is amiss as they are concerned and seem to be awaiting a reaction. They are expecting negativity or I would perceive anticipation, rather than dread. The photo would have been published overnight; the coverage may be the key._

Realizing the paper would contain the family portrait Hannibal turned his attention to the possibility of deception or misdirection and therefore sought to expedite the food preparation. He quickly set up the chafing dishes, squeezed fresh orange juice and prepared the coffee.

Bile rising, Hannibal swallowed hard, choking back his body's reaction to his own exhaustion and the adverse sensory output so clearly emanating from those surrounding him.

_With the scent of collective fear turning my stomach I am forced to wonder whether or not this level of communal anxiety reflects a pre-meditated breach of trust. If so, the person who made this decision will wish they had never been born. _

After setting up the food, the disconcerted doctor walked toward the front door to retrieve the periodical he believed to be key to the disturbance.

_Clarice remains on the second floor or I would sense her presence. What is causing her to delay?_

There was a palpable sense of anxiety as well as a healthy dose of fear the moment everyone perceived he was retrieving the paper. He passed the producer and stopped, turning in his tracks to face her.

"My wife has not yet come down for breakfast. Do you know of any reason she might be delayed?"

The producer was tense, responding cautiously, "I don't really know, but I can find out for you, Doctor."

The woman mumbled into the microphone attached to her headset, paused and returned, "Your wife is in the baby's room being interviewed. They just started so she'll be a while."

Hannibal stood surprisingly still considering his inner tumult; the only evidence a slight clenching of his jaw. He pulled himself together and responded politely, "Thank you, if you'll excuse me, I'll see about the morning paper."

As Hannibal crossed the foyer his eyes shifted subtly. Measuring the staff in his periphery, he noticed their attentions pique as he moved toward the door.

_I'm getting warmer I see. You are watching me as closely as I am watching you, my friends…to what end I wonder? No matter. By the sudden escalation of catecholamine I'm certain to find out momentarily. What will it be my friends, fight or flight?_

The moment he placed his hand on the doorknob, there was a smattering of whispers and a scattering of workers.

_Ah…Flight I see. I am getting warmer then? You are surveying my reaction to what? The news? No. The family photo, perhaps? What about a pre-approved image could cause such obvious stress? Unless the image has been altered in some manner. Such subversive behavior might elicit this level of anxiety. It might also provoke my immediate and equally opposing action. Well, that would explain the flight response._

Opening the door, he immediately drew in a sustained breath. The spring air was crisp. The damp soil musty, warming in the morning sun. Enjoying the brief respite he exhaled slowly, then bent to the newspaper tucked neatly within the door.

_Okie-Dokie…let's see what all the fuss is about._

Unfolding the paper the image was blatant, taking up the entire front page aside from the headline: _**LOVING HANNIBAL!**_

The instant Hannibal saw the front page of the paper there was an emerging understanding. Seeing the image his heart skipped a beat, though on the exterior his demeanor remained unaltered. He quickly gathered his emotions as he straightened his body, tucking the paper under his arm careful not to damage the image.

Hannibal hadn't been told the photo had been changed and was unsure whether or not Clarice had approved the new image. This caused a flood of questions as his mind churned with scenarios weighing the potential responses he might have to each.

_Are you aware of the change, Clarice, or has someone taken advantage of this situation? The decision must have been made quite late last evening as I slept. _

Contemplating the possibility Clarice might have some knowledge of the situation as she had remained awake to feed the baby, Hannibal spun quickly and faced the producer now standing panic stricken in the foyer. The fiery particles of crimson flying from the center of his eyes flashed his displeasure, though Hannibal's expression remained unchanged.

Questioning the producer more to affirm his redress of the developments than his need of information Hannibal pursued, "My wife is in my son's room, you said?"

Choking on the breath she had no memory of taking, the terrified producer responded, "Yes, Doctor Lecter."

_If you are unaware, Clarice, my ferocity will know no bounds._

Hannibal wouldn't disrespect Clarice by responding without first confirming with her the details of the amended choice. He had given her the expressed authority to make the decision and though he believed he had been clear about the photograph, he was sleeping when this decision had been made.

Before reacting, Hannibal needed more information so, with the paper forced tightly against his body he moved quickly up the stairs to find his wife. He caught her scent at the top of the stairs, confirming she remained in their son's room.

_Devyni is not with you, Clarice? Better the child is asleep in the event your response begs my intervention._

Stepping into the room quietly he waited as Clarice was being interviewed. The moment the dialogue ceased, he stepped forward knowing by the conduct of those in the room the director had been forewarned.

Dismissing the presence of the director and the crew Hannibal addressed his wife.

"Clarice? May I see you for a moment?"

Clarice spotted the paper now in his hand. She spoke with barely contained enthusiasm, "Sure, H…We're done here. Is that today's paper?"

Hannibal slapped the folded paper against his palm as he offered, "Yes…yes it is. That is what I've come to discuss."

Excited to see her choice enlarged, Clarice unintentionally dismissed her husband's concern as she clamored, "Is the photo there? Have you seen it? Is it as gorgeous as it looked in the little monitor?"

Tightly bridled restraint barely containing his fury he indirectly alerted her to his concern as he revealed subtly, "That would depend. To which photograph are you referring?"

Clarice reached for the paper without acknowledging his question. She hadn't realized she neglected to tell him of the change and didn't understand his dismay.

"C'mon, stop teasing me, H. I _really _want to see that picture!"

Hannibal withdrew the newspaper and cautioned, "_Clarice…"_

Looking into his eyes and recognizing he was distressed she pulled back and regrouped, "Sorry, H, I don't mean to keep interrupting…you go ahead. Tell me what's wrong."

He sought clarification as he stated, "The image featured in today's paper isn't the photo I recall you approving."

Suddenly realizing she neglected to tell him of the change she immediately expressed her regret.

"No, it's not. I'm sorry H…that was taken late last night after you fell asleep and since you've been up and down so much with Little H, I didn't want to wake you. You said the choice was mine. Can I at least see it?"

Hannibal held the paper up to his wife as the crew looked on nervously.

Clarice smiled widely.

"To be honest, I was a little worried but I've gotta tell you seeing how awesome we look, I don't regret it at all."

Realizing Clarice was involved with the decision he confirmed as he tucked it back under his arm, "You were aware of and approved the change?"

"Yeah, when I saw that image…it's just…it's _Us._ Why? Are you mad at me for changing it?"

Hannibal's head angled just slightly he responded partially, "Not as such."

Clarice reached to her husband, gently brushing the arm tightly gripping the paper against him. She urged, "What the hell kind of answer is that? Not as such _what_, H?"

Obviously intensely uncomfortable in the presence of the cameras, Hannibal's voice lowered, his eyes darkening as he spoke the true origin of his unease, "In the photo, your breasts are exposed."

Incredulous, Clarice reached for the paper and attempted to tug it from beneath her husband's unrelenting arm.

"What? Come on, H…stop screwing around and let me see that."

Hannibal reached under his arm, unfurled the paper and held it, photo faced toward his wife careful to angle it away from the camera.

Clarice squinted as she leaned forward, looked at it and slapped him playfully.

"No it's not! You made me think I flashed a nipple or something. H…I'm breastfeeding our son for Christ's sake. What's a little side-boob anyway? The baby is latched on my right breast and your hand is partially covering the left. I'm feeding our baby and you're holding me…God, H…It's a gorgeous picture!"

Hannibal set the newspaper on the baby's changing table.

"I didn't say it wasn't attractive, Clarice and I made no judgment as to whether or not it was an accurate representation of our relationship as it is indeed both. I was simply inquiring whether or not you were aware of the change. As you approved the image, nothing more need be said."

Hannibal turned to leave the room and not knowing from his demeanor whether or not he was angry, Clarice grabbed his arm and tugged at him gently.

"H…please, H…Turn around. Look at me, H…"

Hannibal stopped, but didn't turn immediately. Instead, he stood deadly still, his head lowered.

"Hannibal…Don't do this. Don't turn away from me."

_Hannibal...not H..._

Hannibal released a long exhalation. Clarice wanted his attention. His shoulders lowered, though he stood his ground. The emotion she demanded was difficult enough for him to express in the most private situation. Here, publicly as the camera captured the moment, he was hesitant.

The director placed her hand on the forearm of the cameraperson and both took several steps back for the sake of their mutual self-preservation, clearly wary of his response.

The crew present held their collective breath believing from Hannibal's tense body language and past history of violence and volatility, an emotional explosion would soon occur. The more still Hannibal became the more terrified they were to be in the room.

Clarice, still holding her husband's arm, moved behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She rested her cheek between his shoulders. She could feel his body shudder, attempting to rein in his upset.

"You didn't answer me, H. I'll endure your anger but I won't be ignored. Are you mad at me for changing that photo?"

Was he really distressed by the change? Hannibal considered the question. How could he be upset or angry with his wife? After all he did give her full authority. He could hardly be angry with her for exercising that which he empowered. Not to mention, the photo was attractive. Exceedingly so, but it was also very intimate. The moment captured intensely personal, showing a vulnerability he was not certain he was comfortable illustrating. It said so much about them without a word. It spoke volumes of their love and their comfort with one another. He wasn't angry. He was troubled.

"_Clarice_…"

Clarice turned him into her arms as the camera rolled.

"It's okay, I understand. You didn't want to share me, did you, H?"

Still brooding, he hung his head and spoke softly, "No, my Love."

Hannibal pulled her close, his eyes shifting for a moment in the direction of the camera, stopping short of making contact with the lens. He tipped his head toward his wife and trailed his nose along her neck, inhaling her scent as he gently traced tiny figure-eights with his fingertips on the small of her back. In her arms, slowly he settled.

Clarice held him close, sensing his need and gently affirmed, "Don't worry H, you'll have me to yourself soon enough."

He brushed his cheek against hers and whispered in his wife's ear, his voice rich with want, "Not soon enough for me, my Love."

Clarice smiled and whispered in return, "Okay, Stud…Meet me in our bathroom in ten minutes. No cameras."

Hannibal kissed his wife on the cheek, "I'll be in the shower, should you need me, Clarice." He turned to the crew, "If anyone is interested, breakfast is served."

The moment Hannibal left the room the crew relaxed visibly, the director speaking first, "Oh my God, he has to be the single most intense man on the face of this earth. For a minute, I was terrified."

Clarice smiled, "He is intense but that's one of the things I love the most about him. There's not another man like him; he's absolutely without equal. Well, I'm going to check the baby and Hannibal's going to shower so we'll be out of commission for a while."

"Out of commission?"

Clarice smiled, "Yeah…" she removed the small microphone attached to her blouse and handed it to the director reiterating, "…out of commission...incommunicado so take my advice and stay off this floor for a while because he'll know it if you don't and unless you want my husband going homicidal, you'll give us a little privacy. Go downstairs, stay downstairs and enjoy your breakfast, ladies and gentleman. When the baby's awake and my husband is calm, we'll come downstairs."

The director agreed, "No worries, Clarice. We'll stay downstairs until you both come down. Enjoy some time with Hannibal."

When Clarice entered the bedroom, Hannibal was in the shower. She stood over the baby's bassinet and watched him sleep. It had been an hour, maybe a little longer since his last feeding. It wouldn't be long before he grew hungry again. Clarice, having showered earlier, locked the bedroom door and opened the bathroom door. Hannibal was stepping out of the shower. Not realizing the cameras were not in the bedroom, he quickly reached for his robe.

"Clarice, mind you close the door. We've shared enough with the general population thus far. I'd like to maintain an air of dignity if you don't mind."

Clarice laughed, "Relax, Big Man, I got rid of the cameras. Come on. We don't have long before the baby wakes up."

Clarice walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed. Hannibal stepped out of the bathroom and looked around their bedroom surprised the cameras were gone.

Careful to speak softly so as not to wake the baby, Hannibal whispered, "Clarice? I thought the bathrooms were the only spaces the cameras were banned."

"H…they're making a fortune from this. They'll do whatever we ask. You obviously needed some privacy."

Hannibal approached the bed and sat beside his wife, resting a hand on her knee.

Putting his arms around his wife, he began to kiss her neck, teasing tiny bites as he spoke. "I need…more than…privacy, Clarice. When…will this be…over?"

"Today's the last full day, H. All the equipment leaves tomorrow at noon, they'll be editing the footage the rest of the day, and we'll approve the final cut before it airs tomorrow night."

Hannibal smoothed his hands over his wife, opening her blouse as he continued to place kisses over her body. Reaching around her back beneath her shirt he unhooked her bra and began to kiss her breasts.

Clarice ran her hands through her husband's hair, sweeping the damp tresses from his forehead as his mouth closed over her.

Hannibal traced his tongue across the tightening flesh drawing her nipple into his mouth.

She whispered as he attended to her gently, "Don't worry, H, we'll get back to normal soon."

Hannibal released her breast for a moment, guiding her onto her back as he placed a pillow beneath her head. Taking his place beside her, Hannibal traced his hand across her cheek.

"Our child is born, Clarice. There will be a new normal, now."

Needing physical closeness, Hannibal pulled his wife against his body as she reached into his robe, caressing him. Concentrating on his breathing, he lowered his head resting his forehead on her shoulder, kissing her body.

"Clarice…"

"Relax, H…we don't have long the baby will wake up soon…just let it happen."

Gripping firmly she encouraged his body to respond. Hannibal moved his hands under her skirt, aggressively pushing the fabric up her thighs, gripping the muscles of her bottom as he pulled her close. Forgetting the baby, he groaned, "Mmmm, Clarice…Clarice…"

Whispering, she reminded him, "Shh…H…the baby…shh…quietly."

Seeking to enflame his passion, Clarice arched her back, baring her breasts to him.

Nostrils flaring to gather the scent, his mouth watered fueling his appetite for her body. Hannibal lunged, capturing her breast, teasing the peak with his tongue sucking gently, tasting her.

His tone lustful he growled, "How I've missed you, Clarice."

Teasing his ear with her teeth, sucking gently at the lobe she whispered, "I'm here, H...I'll always be here."

Exhilarated not only by the contact but the sound of her voice in his ear, he clutched at her shoulders teetering on the edges of his ecstasy. Encouraged, Clarice bowed low, closing her lips around his body.

Attempting to answer, Hannibal gasped, "I know…Clarice…oh, god…I…know…"

As the shudders of ecstasy slowly gripped Hannibal's body, his breathing altered.

Every muscle tensed as his breathing quickened. Hannibal's hips rolled slowly as the burning in his belly spread throughout his body. Muscles tightening, he doubled over cradling his wife gently, and whispered, "My Love…oh…my Love…"

Clarice held her husband very tenderly until the pulsing ceased and his breathing returned to normal. Now sated, Hannibal gathered her in his arms and held her close. Within moments, the baby began to stir. Hannibal kissed his wife.

"It would seem you have another man seeking your breast and starving for your attention, Clarice."

"Don't be such a wise ass, H."

"Heaven forbid, my Love."

Hannibal stood, retrieved the baby and delivered the hungry baby into the arms of his mother. Clarice held her son to her breast and began to feed him. Hannibal cradled his wife once again in his arms. This time, instead of falling asleep, he watched mother lovingly nurse her child. Lifting her chin to him gently, he kissed his wife and spoke tenderly.

"Clarice?"

"H?"

"The photograph?"

"Yeah?"

"It is an ideal representation of our family, Clarice. It is all that our lives together will always be. Like you, my Love…it is perfection."

Clarice, pleased Hannibal agreed, settled against his body, content. Soon the cameras would be gone and their true lives together would begin. Life with Hannibal, their child safe in their arms was as close to perfection as Clarice could imagine.

Hannibal opened the door marked Family within his mind and reverently placed the memory of this moment within. No longer did family represent loss or death or revenge or rage. Family was now Hannibal, Clarice and Devyni and for Hannibal Lecter…that truly was Perfection.

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	135. Chapter 135

**THE HONEY IN THE LION**

Hannibal put his son in Clarice's arms with the understanding that his wife was about to nurse. Knowing what would follow, he took several steps back, offering a measure of privacy as he drew in a protracted breath through his nose and exhaled very slowly through pursed lips. He stood quietly in the background watching intently as the woman whose intelligence, sheer tenacity and beauty took his breath away slipped her hand beneath her right breast heavy with milk, lifted it gently and offered her body to nourish their son.

Transfixed by the sight, Hannibal spoke with near breathless admiration, "My Love, you are perfection."

Clarice, exhausted from the stresses of motherhood, differed, "I don't feel perfect, H."

The heady scent of her milk filling his nostrils he narrated, "Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur michi."

Hannibal noted her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and the toll nursing their child was taking. He made a mental note to attend to her more closely over the course of this day.

Clarice looked over her shoulder and smiled. "My aren't we waxing poetic today. Feeling sentimental, H?"

Still standing across the room he watched the tender scene closely. Though he had flashes of memories, tiny fragments of images and sensations of taking his own mother's breast, his wife feeding his child stirred a pride and tenderness for which he had not been prepared. He was moved beyond his near limitless capacity to fully express.

Staring at his wife, truly spellbound by the image he spoke in low tones as if revealing a guarded secret, "Like no other, you have that affect on me, my Love. I am ill-prepared, at your mercy, and fully content to be so."

Hannibal moved quietly around the room, picking up his robe and returning it to the bathroom.

Clarice, understanding the reference to Dante's La Vita Nuova, was obviously overcome by the vulnerability Hannibal was revealing as it was something so seldom allowed. As such, she exposed sensitivity of her own, "I've got a baby hanging from my breast and a house full of strangers with cameras H…I don't rule over one blessed thing."

Standing fully nude in the easement between the master bedroom and bath, he gripped the doorframe and leaned into the space, stretching his shoulders as he dipped his body into the room facing Clarice.

As he pulled himself back and forth flexing and stretching his back and chest he stated proudly, "You rule over _me_, Clarice, and for that, I am truly blessed."

Pulling the corner of her lower lip into her mouth she bit down and smiled remembering Hannibal's words to her so many years ago.

_Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? _

Admiring her husband's musculature as she watched his body moving in and out of the space between the rooms as he so often did, she finished the thought.

…_And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?_

Clarice's sight shifted to his groin and back to his eyes, still burning into hers as she teased, "Oh, you're _blessed_ alright."

His eyes still locked on hers Hannibal released his hold, took the three commanding steps necessary to reach her side, wrapped an arm around her shoulder pulling her against his body and kissed the top of her head.

"Puerile penis jokes aside, Clarice, I am in awe of the power you have over me. I had resigned myself to a solitary life having never found a woman who held my interest beyond a physical relationship, but you have always held a fascination with me. You are a constant surprise and the stimulation moves me in a way that is extremely humbling. It is a new experience for me, to have such a visceral need of another. It is something I haven't sensed since my childhood and as such, I find the prospect of sharing my life with you to be both extremely exciting and unbelievably daunting."

Clarice began to bump her fingers along the underside of the baby's tiny toes. Emotions were surging through he body, warmth flooding through her even as the milk flowed from her. She felt the heat of his flesh as she leaned against her husband's bare body, emotional as she held their baby in her arms. They had been through so much and were in fact still going through so very, very much, all in an effort to build this unimaginably unlikely life together. The tiny body she held in her arms was an affirmation of all they had been through and would continue to go through in their fight to be accepted as a family. If she were ever placed in a position where her life with this man, this singular, wonderful man beside her, was in jeopardy or heaven forbid, the child in her arms, she would kill any and all without regret or remorse and she understood, more even than she, the man with his arms around her would do the same. There was comfort in that.

"I need you too, H…I can't imagine my life without you…I wouldn't want to."

"Someday, perhaps…but not anytime soon, one hopes."

Kissing his wife once more he left her side and strode across the room to his wardrobe to ready himself for the day. As he stepped into his boxers and slipped them over his hips he watched his wife with their child. She was amazing, his Clarice. Sex aside, a few moments in her embrace with loving words shared and he was renewed.

Hannibal had never allowed a woman to wield so much power over him; neither had any previous lover yielded so much to him as had Clarice. Even when one partner submitted to the other there was equality. Neither spouse consistently controlled, either partner acquiescing willingly with no dominance over the other sought in any particular exchange.

Now dressed in a pair of black trousers and a steel grey shirt he strutted about the bedroom feeling much like a new man. Hannibal Lecter adjusted his trousers and tightened the strap of his belt, tucking the excess leather neatly through the loop and sliding the silver buckle to center. He adjusted the French cuffs of his shirt and as was his daily habit, though now so seldom sought, secured the Harpy within his sleeve. Hannibal then moved to the bedroom door, unlocked and opened the door to circulate the air.

Straightening he stretched his body, patted his flat stomach and happily bellowed, "I'm starved. Shall I bring you a breakfast tray, Clarice?"

Clarice teased, "I've had enough to hold me, H. You go on downstairs and get some food before it's all gone. They're going to want an interview before the end of the day so you'd best fill up before they get you cornered. Mine took forever and I have a feeling you'll interest the viewers a hell of a lot more than I do."

Hannibal straightened his collar and began to close the remaining button but thought better of it leaving the crisp shirt open and relaxed as his bearing. Deciding to return the tie to the rack in his closet he was feeling more casual than most days and thought to reflect it in his wardrobe.

The exceptionally pensive man considered the interview and thought it better to appear approachable. Though his participation in it held no appeal to him, Hannibal determined it an absolute necessity to secure his family's well being. Yes, the interview would prove useful to that end and he would be certain to use it as the tool he intended. Hannibal Lecter would remove the mask for all to see, and show the vulnerable, repentant man the audience hoped for, fabrication though, for the most part, it was.

_Vulnerable? With Clarice certainly, though it would be true with no other. Penitent? Am I? Hardly. Though it serves my purpose to be seen as such. Like a lion, I am capable of rolling onto my back to reveal my soft underbelly. Yes, for the cameras and for my family I will retract my proverbial claws. _

Considering Clarice's statement he commented as he straightened the bed covers not wanting evidence of their tryst to be any more obvious than it already was.

"I truly do not understand the fascination people have with our situation. We fell in love and as lovers often do, married. We now have a son. There is no more to it. Aside from that, what in the world would I have to offer that could be of any interest at all? Shall I exhibit how efficiently I can carry the baby from his crib to your breast or perhaps demonstrate my diaper changing efficiency?"

Clarice wrapped her arms around the baby and bent her nose to her son's head inhaling the mixture of his scent and the lotion Hannibal ordered from Florence.

Straightening and moving around the bed to be closer to Clarice, Hannibal inhaled deeply as well filling his lungs with the air surrounding his family. He could detect the combination of aromas specific to the child, the scent of mother as well, the milk too, rich in the air. Hannibal watched his wife with rapt attention wondering how keen her senses were in this.

_You memorize our son. My lioness, how I love you both..._

While continually tracing the tip of her nose through the baby's hair Clarice spoke softly, careful not to startle their son.

"H, think about it. You spent the majority of your adult life chasing around the world tearing the faces off people and boiling their innards. You've now decided to settle down, marry, an ex- FBI agent no less, and you're one of the few men in the world who changes diapers willingly. You don't think that might raise an eyebrow, spawn a question or two and generate more than a little bit of interest?"

"I find it amusing that anyone would be surprised that being capable of one thing might make me incapable of another as if the varied aspects of my personality can be considered mutually exclusive to one another. In point of fact, one makes me more capable of the other as my violent past provides the requisite aggression needed to defend my family. Not to mention, Clarice, innards are more suited to casings than boiling. I have a sausage recipe that was quite exceptional, though I'll have no further use for it."

Clarice covered the baby's ears and mouthed without sound.

"Don't be such a wise ass, H."

"Heaven forbid, Clarice."

Hannibal stood across from his wife, his head tilted slightly as he considered the interest of the general public in his role as husband and father while watching his wife nurse their son.

"I must say I am disturbed at the societal double standard in play here. You have taken as many lives as I, yet not a question has been raised as to your potential fitness as a parent."

Clarice taunted her husband playfully as she reached for and tenderly kissed her baby's tiny star-shaped hand, "That's 'cuz I had a badge, H and I didn't eat the bad guys."

Hannibal flashed a devilish smile, "That you_ know_ _of,_ Clarice."

Clarice reached beside her, grabbed a pillow and hurled it playfully at her husband.

"No you didn't just insinuate that you've been feeding me people!"

Hannibal snatched the pillow from the air and tossed it back on the bed. He leaned toward Clarice and hissed with a sparkling glint of playfulness reflecting the pinpoints of red in his eyes, "And _you_ thought it was _bacon_."

"Don't you go ruining bacon for me, Hannibal."

Hannibal slipped his hands into his front pockets, his contrapposto striking an impressive figure as he questioned with a wry smile, "Hannibal…not H?"

"Screw you, H!"

Hannibal stalked slowly toward his wife and whispered shamelessly, "Yes. _Please_."

As her husband stepped forward slowly like a cat stalking it's prey, continually closing the distance the sexual energy arced between them causing Clarice to whisper flirtatiously, "In about three and a half weeks I'm gonna wear you out, Hannibal Lecter."

Hannibal, putting on his best West Virginia drawl teased in return, "Hell, Clarice, in about three and a half weeks, I'll be all too happy to oblige. As to wearing me out…_please do._ If I were to pass from this life in your arms, I'd die a happy man, my Love."

Hannibal bent to his knees in front of his wife, kneeling as if before an altar. He kissed the tops of her thighs, smoothing his hands up and down the length of them. Several minutes passed as Hannibal continued to massage his wife's body seeking to comfort and ease her as she fed their child. Clarice, growing hungry and remembering their earlier conversation, questioned,

"Hey, H?"

While attending to the silky flesh of her inner thigh he responded in kind, "Yes, Clarice?"

"_Did_ you make bacon?"

"For you? Yes…of course."

"Could you run downstairs really quickly and put some aside before the crew tears through it…maybe with a pancake or two?"

Still smoothing his hands beneath her clothing he answered without shifting his gaze, "I prepared crepes this morning. Will that do or shall I make pancakes especially for you?"

Tousling the hair on his head she laughed, "Hell, those are just skinny pancakes they'll be fine." Suddenly her eyes brightened. "Hey, H…what did you wrap inside?"

Circling his palms over each patella Hannibal began to kiss her knees as he spoke, "Fresh berries…and whipped cream…drizzled with… dark chocolate…and…a …fresh…mint…garnish."

"Did you whip it yourself or is there that nozzle-can in the fridge I can play around with later? I like to make my cheeks puff up."

"Fresh cream of course. A can? _Really, Clarice."_

Clarice nudged Hannibal attempting to rouse him from his knees.

"Sorry Chef, I didn't mean to insult you. Come on, go make me a plate and hide it from the vultures, would you? I don't feel like scraping the bottom of the chafing dish for my meal."

Hannibal reached for their son and smoothed his large hand over the baby's head, distracted for a moment as he tested his son's pulse by settling his thumb gently within the smooth curve of the fontanel.

_Strong…you are a healthy boy my Little One…what a fine man you will be._

"Not to worry I put aside your breakfast before I placed the food for the crew. You are my first priority, Clarice. I provided a balanced meal that you remain healthy and our son is nourished."

"You put up some bacon for me, too?"

"Yes, Clarice, I put aside an ample portion."

Clarice lifted her chin, beckoning her husband for a kiss. Hannibal slipped his hands around her body and kissed her tenderly as she nursed their son.

Pausing, he spoke against her lips, "Have I told you what a miracle you are Clarice?"

Before his wife had the opportunity to answer, Hannibal lifted his head and searched the air, nostrils flaring. Upon identifying the target, his eyes narrowed.

"Very soon we will no longer be alone, my Love."

"No way! I told them not to come up here until I let them know."

"The open door could have been perceived as that invitation. There were two individuals in young Hannibal's room retrieving equipment. They moved to the hall and conversed; now the scent is moving toward us. It is the male camera operator and one of the producers…the brunette, I believe."

The aforementioned producer along with the cameraman had indeed spotted the open door, proceeded toward the master suite and entered the room seconds later, with the camera rolling.

Hannibal spoke softly to his wife, "For once, I would have loved to have been wrong."

Knowing his senses were well practiced and so highly tuned they were all but infallible she lovingly brushed a lock of hair from his forehead seeking to comfort him. Agreeing with his sentiment she commiserated, "Yeah, not likely though. Sorry, H."

Lowering his head, he muttered, "No, not likely at all. Still, there is no need for you to apologize, my Love. I would endure any and all to keep you and our son safe."

Clarice understood this process was a struggle for her husband, though he had been nothing but gracious and accommodating.

_My poor husband…soon this will be over. After so many years with Chilton breathing down your neck this must be pure torture but you'll never complain to me will you? No, you'll just do what has to be done for your family without regard to the emotional toll it takes on you. You're magnificent, H…_

Hannibal, knowing his eyes would reveal his displeasure rested his right cheek on his wife's lap and breathed deeply, hoping the scent of her would calm him. Knowing the light was low in the room and his emotions were in flux, he was careful that his eyes would not meet the lens. The pinpoints of red would reflect the light and the resulting glow might be disconcerting to viewers. He therefore averted his gaze.

Growling his upset he pulled her closely to him, so much so that her arms cradling their nursing son rested just above his head. His grumbling rolling within his ribcage hummed against his wife's hip. Hannibal Lecter contented and relaxed mere moments before struggled to hide his agitation. He coiled his arms around his wife like a snake protecting its eggs.

Hannibal's unique mind began to process not only the situation but his physiological response to the circumstances in which he found himself. He was disturbed, yes, but he was equally curious as to the root cause of the disturbance.

_The camera is no more than a device meant to capture a moment, a moment of my own design. This machine…this tool can be used to convey whatever I wish it to convey. Why does its presence disrupt my body so much? The filmmakers will be gone soon enough yet, I want them gone now and that is not logical. I must take advantage of every opportunity to draw them in and show them not merely what they want to see, but what __**I**__ want them to see. If there is no curiosity there will be no further concern. The loss of privacy is temporary but the benefits will be long reaching if I use this to my family's benefit. I should welcome this yet I feel anger at the intrusion…Curious._

Surprised at the reaction he was having to the interruption Hannibal assessed his emotions. He found much to his bewilderment that he truly mourned the loss of this precious time spent with his wife and child. The forfeiture of this tableau created an emptiness that elicited his upset, but it was more than that. He found that he was continually reaching within his sleeve, instinctively feeling for his Harpy.

_Why? What is the provocation that instigates within me this primal need to protect though my senses perceive no danger?_

Inhaling his wife's scent attempting to still his mind the answer formed within.

_The scent of her milk…She is nursing…she is vulnerable and cannot defend herself in this position. She can protect, but she would not defend. She would absorb any injury to prevent harm from coming to the child, but is not in the position to inflict harm. She is defenseless. I am her armor. I am her weapon. I am their shield._

It was difficult for Hannibal to admit but his perception of his wife was evolving. She was no longer the cub. She was the lioness with a cub of her own. He was now the lion protecting his mate and their young. Though his primal instincts were always well tuned, this intense drive was base and now the center focus of his being. His heart was no longer the epicenter driving his life's force as the beating of their hearts fully supplanted his own.

Clarice sensed his preoccupation and sought to distract, so she shifted the baby to secure her son with one arm in order to gently rub her husband's back. Encouraging him to leave the room she lightly jostled his shoulder, cajoling him to action.

"Come on, H. You killed yourself to cook for everyone. You need to eat something before you waste away. I'll be along in a minute. The baby can't nurse forever."

Hannibal lifted his chin, winked, and flashed a flirtatious smile as he spoke, "He is _my_ son, Clarice. He might be at your breast for quite some time. I know if _I _were in _his _position, I would _never_ let go."

_**Until the next chapter my friends, **_

_**LH**_


	136. Chapter 136

**RATINGS GOLD**

Hannibal cleared the crew's buffet, washed the dishes, stored all of the items in their respective places and though he had run out of ways to entertain himself, still, his wife had not come down. He understood Clarice needed to tend to the baby however being alone while the cameras rolled was proving to be not only irritating and claustrophobic but was giving Hannibal the feeling of being hemmed in. He wanted nothing more in the world than to be alone with Clarice and his baby; Hannibal longed for the compound in Argentina.

_I fulfilled my promise to you Clarice; you have given birth among friends. Soon this chapter of our lives will come to an end and we will begin our lives anew without the watchful eyes of the world following our every move. _

Pacing for a few moments in front of the large window in the kitchen, Hannibal's eyes shifted, taking in the surroundings. Catching his reflection it dawned that he might appear nervous, like an animal pacing before the bars of a cage. Seeking stillness, he sat at that breakfast island smoothing his hands over the cool stone surface as he waited for Clarice so they might enjoy their breakfast together.

The tactile sensations of the cool stone initiated memories within Hannibal prompting a brief visit to the Uffizi. He closed his eyes and listening to the activity surrounding, simultaneously strolled to the second floor seeking room forty-two, the Niobe Room. Captivated by the movements generated by the statues ringing the room Hannibal could feel his shoes striking the richly tiled floor as, within his memory palace, he surveyed the surroundings. He thought if Clarice were delayed further, he might view the work of Rubens…No. The work of Caravaggio was more to his taste this day. He moved to view The Sacrifice of Isaac. The father, Abraham was represented as a much older paternal figure much like Hannibal while nearby, a sacrificial ram beside the boy reminded him of Clarice's lamb. The iconography, now that he was a father, took on new meaning.

_If it were the Almighty asked for the life of young Hannibal I would deny that ransom martyring myself in the boy's stead to fulfill God's bloodlust, but never my child…never my son. Abraham was a fool._

Aware of everything around him, especially within his own home, Hannibal considered the image as he listened to the conversation the producer and director were having one room over. He caught the scent of the boom operator and assessed the man's need to reapply his antiperspirant even as he smelled the aftershave of the camera operator assigned to film him, now standing just over the good doctor's left shoulder.

The proximity and angle of this particular man was troubling as he was just beyond Hannibal's periphery causing Lecter, by force of habit, to quickly assess the distance and his ability to strike out at the man if need be. Though he knew there was no need, for assurance, he reached within his cuff and felt for the Harpy, confirming its placement and ease of accessibility.

_Six feet…one broad step, lunge…an extension of my arm to reach him and in a split second I could dispatch the tasteless oaf. One would think I was in the company of Will Graham. Do men not evolve beyond the tastes of their fathers? Rest assured, my son will exceed me. _

Hannibal inhaled and winced at the sensory input.

_What atrocious aftershave. Has a little ship on the bottle, does it not?_

Lifting his head he searched the air allowing the corporeal input to shift. Suddenly, a flash of recognition and obvious joy illuminated within his unique eyes, the peaceful glow prominent and warm. Hannibal inhaled once more and purged the stench of the man's inexpensive and by Hannibal's standards, cut-rate cologne, replacing it with something far more to his taste...Tennessee lavender and fleece.

_Clariiice…_

Forgoing the Uffizi, Hannibal stood quickly, and stepped to the side resting his hand on the back of the deeply carved, richly upholstered bar stool circling his left thumb within the scroll of the chair's molding.

Seeing the purposeful movements but not understanding the impetus, the boom operator turned his head and raised his eyebrows at the cameraman.

_What the hell? Why did he jump up?_

Both men observed with silent surprise Hannibal's expectation. It was plain he stood for a purpose, waiting for something to happen that neither man perceived. The cameraman shook his head and shrugged his shoulders at the boom operator; both individuals obviously questioned the reason for Hannibal's sudden movements and blatant anticipation.

Perceiving their angst, Hannibal was amused. _Cortisol levels rising. Are you stressed by my movement gentlemen?_

The crewmembers were shocked when Clarice, without a sound to alert, arrived in the kitchen. The men had heard Hannibal could detect a person's whereabouts without benefit of sight or sound but were stunned by the clear demonstration of that prowess. He had obviously detected her approach and prepared for her arrival long before she joined him in the kitchen.

Hannibal was surprised as well. Not by her arrival but by his body's response to her approach. Placing his right hand on his chest he centered his palm to test the flutter as he allowed his body to involuntarily respond to the stimulus of his love's approach.

_An increase in serum luteinizing hormones…corresponding decreases in cortisol and prolactin additionally with testosterone levels rising as well. My, Clarice, how the mere scent of you moves me._

The moment Clarice entered with camera and crew in tow she flipped on the baby monitor to link this room to the baby sleeping peacefully.

"Hey, H. Baby's asleep."

Gently settling his hands for a moment on the curve of her hips he kissed her briefly, and spoke, "You are a comfort to our son, and his father as well. Please, relax while you are able and allow me to serve our breakfast."

Drawing a stool back and assisting Clarice to sit, Hannibal then went to the oven and retrieved their meal, warming until her return. As he placed the plates on the stone surface of the island and placed the appropriate cutlery he bent to kiss his wife.

"Bacon included my Love, enjoy."

"Thanks H. It was sweet of you to wait for me."

"Not at all, Clarice. I would wait forever if need be that you not eat alone."

Taking his place beside his wife, sitting shoulder to shoulder the pair enjoyed their meal. Occasionally, Clarice would lean into her husband and rest her head on his shoulder. Occasionally, Hannibal would feed her a bite of food. The lovers, though surrounded with a flurry of activity as the crew moved around the couple about the business of filming, behaved as if they were alone in the room. Their exchanges were so intimate and loving with no hint of contrivance the producer and director exchanged smiles and nods recognizing the ratings gold evolving in front of their eyes.

When their meal was complete, Hannibal and Clarice carried their plates to the sink and as Hannibal washed the dishes, Clarice dried them.

The producer quietly approached when the last of the dishes were put away and without prior warning touched her hand to Hannibal's shoulder.

"Excuse me, Doctor Lecter."

Although he was not at all surprised by the contact, he had in fact caught the scent of the woman's perfume the moment she moved, Hannibal spun toward the pressure quickly. There was no aggression in his action but the woman's latent fears combined with the speed at which Hannibal's body turned toward her startled the woman.

Seeing the producer flinch and knowing full well Hannibal understood the affect he had on people, Clarice smiled.

_You did that on purpose, didn't you, H? The things you'll do when you're bored! If they new how silly you are…_

Equally amused and responding as if the reaction had been unintentional Hannibal held up a hand in apology. "Please excuse me, it was not my aim to alarm. You caught me off guard."

Clarice bumped her husband's hip with hers and caught his eye.

_Off guard my ass. I'm calling bullshit on that one, H._

Knowing her thought, Hannibal winked.

_You know me too well, my Love._

Positively breathless from the shock of the moment the woman's hands flew to her face. Having no paper bag to control her hyperventilation, she cupped her palms over her mouth and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm. She knew how foolish she must have appeared, flinching as if he brandished a weapon. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as with the remnants of panic remained on her face.

_Holy shit…Holy shit…I look like an idiot for sure._

The woman's exaggerated though unintentional response made it appear as if she perceived Hannibal might attack leading her to apologize profusely, "It was my fault, Doctor. I should have alerted you in some way before I touched you. Please accept my apology."

Allowing a moment to drink in her fear he paused then responded with courtesy, "I assure you there is no apology necessary. Now that you have my undivided attention is there something I can do for you?"

Lowering her still trembling hands, she regrouped, "I'd like to interview you for the documentary, if you don't mind."

Hannibal pondered the possibilities this circumstance would present and measuring the outcome, made his decision.

"I am of course at your disposal but would prefer to share my time with Clarice if that is agreeable. I believe the viewers are most interested in our interaction as a married couple. Of course, her participation would in no way remove any questions from the table. You may ask whatever you wish."

"No topics off limits?"

"None."

Clarice slipped her hand around her husband's waist and hooked her thumb on his belt, watching Hannibal wrap the woman around his proverbial thumb.

"Absolutely. I'm sure the viewers would love to see you together and get a vision of your relationship."

Hannibal placed a hand on her back and massaging as he spoke, "You don't have a problem participating with me, do you Clarice? If so, I'll go it alone."

"No problem, H. I'll be happy to sit with you and put my two cents in."

The producer was thrilled and barely contained her excitement as she questioned, "Since you just put the baby down for a nap, maybe now is a good time to get this done if you don't have any problem with that. Do either of you need to prepare?"

Clarice looked at Hannibal and nudged him with her elbow as she teased, "Age before beauty, H…you got anything you need to prepare?"

"I am more than prepared, Clarice. If we were alone and your capacity were such, I would be more than happy to demonstrate."

"I'm talking about the interview. There _will_ be _cameras,_ Stud."

"I don't _mind_ cameras, Clarice."

Clarice slapped him on the backside as she followed the director into the next room.

"In three weeks plus, I'll keep that in mind, Big Guy!"

Hannibal smiled shamelessly, "I'll provide the tripod, Clarice."

Stopping in her tracks and bent with laughter at the double entendre Clarice joked, "Oh my God, you _kill _me, H!"

Grabbing his wife by her hips from behind Hannibal pressed himself fully against her and hissed in her ear through a devilish smile, "Others perhaps, but never you, Clarice…never you."

He then wrapped his arms around his wife's waist from behind, playfully lifted her off the ground and began to kiss and bite at her neck as he carried her into the family room with her legs swinging like a pendulum in front of them.

Clarice laughed and squirmed, "Let me go… let me go, H!"

Hannibal carried Clarice all the while growling playfully in her ear, "I will never let you go, my Love!"

By the time they reached the family room, Clarice was kicking and laughing hysterically as Hannibal proceeded to drive his face into her neck, nibbling the tender skin just behind her right ear.

The steadicam operator ran alongside as the boom operator chased with the microphone swinging overhead, catching every moment of the playful exchange on camera. The producer watched the entire scene, secure in the success of the project.

_Christ, this is ratings gold!_

Upon entering the family room, Hannibal set his wife down and turned her body in his arms. Now face-to-face he gathered her to him and hung his head over her shoulder. They didn't kiss. They didn't speak. They simply held each other, cameras rolling.

After two or three minutes of loving embrace the pair separated, Hannibal brushing the back of his hand along her cheek as they parted. He then took her hand and, guided her to the loveseat, occupying the seat beside her.

The producer took her place, choosing to sit on the wing chair, Hannibal's wing chair, across from the loveseat, and cameras still rolling, began the interview.

Checking her notes quickly, the producer turned to the couple and spoke her first question to both Hannibal and Clarice, "So, it's obvious the two of you are very close?"

Clarice responded with a hint of sarcasm and a smile, "_You think?_ What tipped you off?"

Hannibal lowered his head and smiled.

"You are magnificent, Clarice," he spoke softly as he traced tiny figure eights over his wife's thigh with his fingertips.

The producer smiled, obviously finding Clarice's comment entertaining. She turned and addressed Hannibal hoping for some of the same, "Well, I guess we now all know what Clarice's opinion is. Would you like to share your thoughts, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal continued to touch his wife, his eyes on his hand as his thumb re-traced the pattern. He considered the question while responding, "We are very close, yes. Probably more so than most newly married couples for we have endured much to be together. When you consider this first year of our marriage, we have been apart almost as much time as we have been together, all in an effort to earn the right to live openly as husband and wife."

The producer signaled for the camera to focus on the poignancy of Hannibal's hands tenderly stroking Clarice. As the lens turned drawing in the scene, the producer questioned, "Is there a significance to the pattern you trace over your wife's skin?"

"Infinity. To signify that I will love her always."

_Ratings fucking gold!_

The producer could barely contain her excitement, "Doctor Lecter, when did you first realize you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Clarice?"

The second camera zoomed in on Hannibal's face. Seeing the close-up and understanding the power of that question in the minds of viewers, Hannibal leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his wife's lips. He then lowered his head for a moment like a bashful young boy as he paused for effect and spoke quietly.

"It wasn't something I considered consciously very often, though the heat of passion…the want of her simmered within me just beneath the surface. The love bloomed very slowly, blossoming over time. Although the concept that we might someday be together evolved very gradually, she had my attention from the first. I expect it was the same for Clarice."

Clarice leaned against Hannibal, her head tipping slightly onto his shoulder as she joined, "Yeah…He was always with me…"

She neglected to finish the thought_…like a bad habit._

Accepting the affirmation by Clarice, the producer looked up from her notes and questioned Hannibal further, "So…by the end of the first meeting you were interested in Clarice?"

Straightening his already exceptional posture Hannibal corrected his body as he corrected the statement, asserting, "No, not from the first meeting. From the first moment."

An expression of incredulity reflecting that she didn't believe the comment, the producer responded frankly, "_The first moment?_ You _can't_ be serious."

Hannibal's eyes shifted to Clarice for support and she immediately affirmed, "If he said it, he means it. Hannibal doesn't lie."

The producer didn't take this comment seriously. "What do you mean he doesn't lie? Everyone lies at one time or another."

Shaking her head, Clarice repeated, "No. He doesn't lie…ever. Why do you think he didn't enter an insanity plea at his trial or claim innocence? He doesn't lie."

"That's an incredible statement. What do you have to say in response to your wife's claim, Doctor?"

Hannibal took his wife's hands in his, securing them on his lap.

"I make no claims. I did not enter a plea at my trial because I didn't feel any of the options offered presented the truth of the matter. I do not feel the need to lie because I don't do anything of which I am ashamed. If there is no shame, there is no reason for deceit."

"You're not ashamed of the lives you've taken?"

"No, I am not ashamed any more than my wife is ashamed of the lives she has taken."

"But she had a badge."

"That didn't make them any more or less dead, did it?"

"No…I guess not."

Clarice leaned forward and glared at the producer, "Are we going to re-try a pardoned man again. Isn't that a tad redundant considering that was the entirety of your last documentary? I think the whole _Hannibal the Cannibal/ Beauty and the Beast_ angle has been beaten to fucking death, _don't you?"_

Though his chest swelled with pride as his lioness sharpened her claws, Hannibal did not draw attention to her defense of him, instead reprimanding gently, "My Love…Language."

Clarice was clearly disturbed, as she felt responsible. She handled the arrangements regarding this documentary and would not have Hannibal treated in this way.

"Fuck it! The baby's not here, H! I'm not watching you choke on this anymore!"

The producer could see by the look in Clarice's eyes not Hannibal's, that the documentary would not be served by additional queries on this topic and wisely regrouped.

"You're right. We did extensively cover that information. Getting back to the original thought, you said you were interested in Clarice from the first moment?"

Hannibal brought their clasped hands to his face and kissed the back of his wife's hand. "Yes, from the first moment I saw Clarice I knew she was special and every single moment I have spent in her company has reinforced that initial assessment."

"What about her led you to that conclusion?"

Hannibal faced his wife, looking into her eyes as he spoke his answer.

"There is divinity, a purity in her eyes that I have seen in no other. Clarice has an intelligence and an honesty I found and still find, exceedingly attractive."

"You were attracted to her beauty?"

Still fixated on his wife, he expounded, "She is Beauty, yes, but she is so much more than that. Goodness emanates from my wife. I speak of the light within her; that spark of soul that illuminates her being from within. She is irresistible. In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni"

Leaning forward over the clipboard secured atop her crossed legs the producer was intrigued, "That means what, Doctor?"

Breathing deeply he assessed the changes in his wife's scent. The post-partum period left her hormones in flux and her iron levels lowered. He determined her bleeding was still fairly significant. He was clearly distracted as he spoke, "We enter the circle at night and are consumed by fire."

"What is the significance of that quote, Doctor Lecter?"

The action of blinking once served the purpose of bringing Hannibal back to the topic at hand.

"It is indicative of risk verses reward representing the behavior of a moth as it is drawn to the danger of the flame. Though I believed Clarice was the only person alive who represented a true danger to me, I could not help but be enticed. She captivated me so completely that though I had little hope, I dared to approach and speak my love to her. I was fortunate to find my feelings were returned in equal measure, though in courage, she is unequalled."

"Courage?"

Hannibal leaned toward the producer as he questioned, "Do you not think it requires bravery to be my spouse and the mother of my child?"

Shifting uncomfortably in Hannibal's chair she responded, "Why would she need bravery? You wouldn't hurt her, would you? Do you think she's afraid of you? Do you want her to be afraid of you?"

Hannibal raised a suspicious eyebrow at the inference.

"Why would I want my wife to live in fear of me? What kind of a husband would that make me? No, my wife understands that she is perfectly safe in my arms and I am not speaking of doing her injury when I state bravery is required to be my spouse. As my wife alluded, I am, in certain circles, still referred to as _Hannibal the Cannibal. _ Do you not believe courage is required to live as my wife with that burden to carry? Clarice gave birth to my son knowing what people think when they see me. You yourself flinched in my presence scant minutes earlier. Though I pose no threat, people fear me. Clarice _never _has."

"_Never?"_ The producer turned to Clarice, "Is that _true_?

Clarice nodded, "Yeah, it's true."

"That seems unlikely."

"It's not unlikely at all. Based on his morals I knew he would never hurt me."

"Morals? An unusual word to attribute to a man who was once sentenced to nine consecutive life terms."

"He's the most moral man I have ever known."

Clarice almost dared a response.

The producer, seeing Hannibal as more cooperative, continued, Doctor Lecter, have you reformed?"

Hannibal laughed internally at the thought. Externally, he made a concerted effort to keep a straight face. He could see, by the hand raised to shield her amusement, Clarice was having similar difficulties controlling her reaction.

Hannibal, not wanting to seem trite, responded simply, "Reformed? That word carries with it the connotation that there was an improvement needed to my character as if I were in some way, defective. No. In the strictest definition of the word, I am not reformed though I have promised my wife I would not take another life unless in defense of my family or myself. I honor that promise as I honor the love I have for my wife. She is perfection, my Clarice."

The producer seemed horrified as she repeated, "_Your_ Clarice?"

It was obvious to Hannibal, the producer took umbrage to his assertion of fully possessing his wife. He wasn't the least bit concerned by her interpretation or any offense she might take from the appellation he lovingly bestowed. He lowered his head, his eyes shining with laser-like intensity as he reasserted the nickname he used to refer to his beloved, "Yes. _My_ _Clarice_."

Feminist sensibilities affronted, the producer pursued, "You say that as if you possess her. As if you own her, believing she belongs to you."

Hannibal did not shrink from that concept. Rather, he asserted simply, "Yes, precisely."

The producer shifted her eyes to Clarice obviously seeking some sign of displeasure at the misogynistic undertones she herself perceived, though in fact there was no such hint in Hannibal's tone. In fact, the tenor of his reflected not only honor but unbridled love and admiration.

Still the producer forced the point by questioning, "Do you have a problem being referred to as _my Clarice_?"

Clarice looked at the producer, assessing her intent.

"What are you getting at?" she asked defensively.

"_My _Clarice. When you consider semantics, there's an inference of ownership."

"_The hell there is_. Don't go inserting political correctness where it doesn't belong and fuck semantics. He says _my_ _Clarice_ because he wants everyone to know I'm his. If that offends your sensibilities that's just tough freaking luck. He's damned right I'm his, and guess what. _He's_ _mine."_

Hannibal smiled as Clarice vehemently took to his defense, "Yes, my Love…all yours, mind, body and soul."

The producer regrouped, "I didn't mean to offend either of you."

Hannibal placed his arms around his wife, proud to have her by his side. He offered graciously to the producer, "No offense has been taken. Please, continue."

The producer, realizing Hannibal and Clarice were somewhat of a tag team, smiled.

"You'd defend him no matter what, wouldn't you?"

Clarice, in defending Hannibal, spoke her love to him in volumes. She was intensely passionate as she verbally protected, "He doesn't need me to defend him, but I won't let people treat him like some kind of a goddamned animal or try and put their own fears on his back by attributing motivations to him I know are bullshit! No, he doesn't need me to defend him, but I'll sure as hell stand by his side no matter what."

The producer turned to Hannibal and dared ask, "Would you kill for Clarice?"

Unafraid of the question he spoke plainly.

"If need be…"

Hannibal paused. Evolving was a distant, faraway look in his eyes.

"…But it's so much more than that…"

Confused, the producer paused, not knowing what to say.

Squeezing his wife's hand, Hannibal filled the silence.

"…I'd die for her."

**Until the next chapter my friends!**

**LH**


	137. Chapter 137

**Special thanks to Lusting4Lecter for always being so willing to read the early drafts and make such helpful suggestions. Thanks, Twin!**

**INVITATIONS**

Logan and Ardelia were invited to watch the documentary with Clarice, but knowing Logan, even in the best circumstances, drove her husband to distraction. Clarice, quickly called Barney while Hannibal was at the butcher and the baby slept, hoping he too would attend. Barney picked up so quickly his voice startled her.

"_Clarice?"_ There was a tinge of concern in his tone.

Though she heard worry, she thought he might simply be preoccupied.

"Hey Barney."

Clarice assumed the casual nature of the salutation would reveal there was no need to worry but Barney heard only ambiguity.

Remaining apprehensive he continued with concern, "You need me to come over? Everything okay with Hannibal?"

Still hearing the tension and realizing it was Hannibal who normally contacted Barney, it suddenly dawned on Clarice that her call might signal a problem.

She immediately consoled, "No problems, sorry, Hannibal's okay. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"I normally hear from your husband, so your voice instead of his scared me for a minute."

"Funny…it's usually the other way around."

Barney laughed, "Yeah…I bet! So, what's up?"

Seeing no need to hedge, she got straight to the point.

"Do you think you could come over tonight while the show is on? Logan and Dee will be here and you know how that goes."

She could hear Barney smile.

"So, you want me to help you keep your man from goin' medieval on that fool?"

Pacing in front of the large kitchen window, Clarice spoke softly as she watched nervously for Hannibal's arrival_._

_It isn't as if he would be able to overhear me from outside the house…still, with H…who knows. Hell, what am I so worried about? He won't be back for another hour. Plus, it's not like he told me __**not**__ to invite Barney. _

She doubted Hannibal would be upset with Barney's presence being that he agreed to have Logan and Ardelia over.

_No…he considers them __**my**__ friends. Maybe he wants to be alone while the show is on. He was being held when the last one aired and didn't have to consider all the bullshit that went with it. Even so, he knows Logan would never leave him alone. He's not used to having friends and would probably welcome Barney, he just won't ask. _

Barney, at the very least provided a buffer between Hannibal and Logan. Barney was used to controlling strong personalities and had no problem shutting down the younger man's fanboy spontaneity in the good doctor's presence. She decided last night that inviting Barney would be a good idea. She hoped Barney would ba amenable.

"Yeah, something like that. Can you come?"

Clarice held her breath.

_Come on, Barney…Please say yes…_

Barney wasn't planning on watching anyway. He quickly agreed, "Sure, what time?"

_Thank you, Jesus!_

Relief coloring her tone she offered, "The show comes on at nine. H wants to do dinner first. Say, six o'clock?"

Waiting for Barney's response, Clarice moved from the kitchen to the family room and turned on the television. She flipped over to the channels designated for the security system wanting to know the moment Hannibal parked his car.

Barney sensed Clarice's preoccupation and questioned, "So, this is a big deal, huh?"

"Yeah…I think H will be climbing the walls over this. Logan being here sure as hell won't help but I can't hang with Ardelia without Logan wanting to tag along and, after all he's done for us, I'd look like a real ass if I told him to stay home. If he thought Hannibal didn't want to see him, he'd be devastated."

"Yeah, I think Logan has a bit of a man-crush on your husband. Okay, no problem, Clarice. I'm happy to help out."

Again, Clarice's tone was tentative, "Barney, if you don't mind my asking, were you planning on watching it? I doubt Hannibal wants to relive it."

"Not especially. I don't think there's anything about your husband I haven't experienced first hand so that will all be old news. Don't forget Clarice, I've seen him naked more than you have. Anything he showed that camera was only because it's what he meant to show. People think they're seeing Hannibal. They're just seeing who and what that brilliant bastard wants them to see."

Nodding to no one in particular she agreed, "You know him too well, B."

There was a long pause. Clarice assumed Barney was considering the statement.

Barney spoke very plainly, "There's been a lot between us, your husband and me, and yet I don't really know him at all. I think you're the only one who will ever_ really_ know him. You're the only one he'll ever let in."

"Yeah…I know. I'm just glad he took the chance to reach out to me. I don't think I would've ever been that brave. He's so special."

"So are you, Clarice. That's why Hannibal loves you so much. I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight, Barney."

As Clarice hung up the phone thinking of Barney's parting words, a warm feeling began to flood her body. She suddenly had an absolutely irresistable urge to smile and as the grin spread widely across her face, almost to the point where it made her cheeks hurt, all she could think of was her H.

_Hannibal loves me…_

Now that Barney was coming, knowing Hannibal would be upset if he didn't have enough food, Clarice quickly texted:

_Barney's coming over so get more food._

Hannibal stood in front of the large glass case at the local butcher's shop deciding on the cuts of meat he would like to serve when the text arrived. He checked his phone and quickly messaged back:

_Understood._

Clarice realized the return text meant he knew not only to purchase additional supplies, but, that she made the arrangements for his comfort. Feeling better that he didn't seem upset, she went to take her shower before the baby woke from his nap.

Hannibal needed only to pick the cuts of meat to serve.

As Logan, Barney and Ardelia all loved steak, Clarice's blood needed fortifying and Hannibal himself was in a particularly carnivorous mood, he settled on the butcher's best prime Black Angus tenderloin.

As Hannibal surveyed the marbling of several selections offered by the butcher, he became aware of a crowd forming in a sort of human horseshoe around him. Hannibal searched the air.

_Curiosity tinged with the slightest hint of fear and something else? Pheromones? Why in a butcher's shop? How odd. _

Hannibal turned his head slightly in the direction of the hormonal influx. In his periphery he sighted an extremely attractive and very voluptuous redhead.

Shifting uncomfortably, Hannibal turned his attention forward in an effort to ignore the woman, now flanking him and waving in an attempt to draw his attention. Nodding an affirmation as the butcher pointed to the selection to confirm, Hannibal considered the woman from the corner of his eye. She obviously she had intentions to meet.

_Hopefully, the butcher will be slow with his work and you will be impatient, dear woman, because I am in no mood to placate._

The woman moved a step forward.

_Please, no._

Another step.

Hannibal moved forward and placed his hand on the counter, turning his shoulder to the woman. From his body language it was obvious he did not wish to be approached. His ears pricked, Hannibal could hear the whispers of the people watching. It seemed they were not only curious but were waving her on, encouraging her boldness. He could see cell phones pointed, capturing the moment.

_She has obviously received very positive feedback in the past for her appearance and daring. She is lucky I am unaccompanied or she would be looking down the barrel of a Colt by now. My Clarice, where are you when I need you?_

Obvious the situation was unavoidable Hannibal took a deep breath and with a shudder of his shoulders prepared for her presence.

_Come then, let us get this over with._

The crowd urging her forward and stoking her boldness she slinked up behind Hannibal rested a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "I see you've got your dinner planned. How would you like a redhead for dessert?"

Hannibal's body tensed the moment the hand was placed. He lowered his head and turned it at an unnatural angle, his eyes flashing displeasure even as he smiled.

"I have a redhead for dessert every night, Madame. Please remove your hand. It would be disconcerting for my beautiful wife to think I would allow such contact or entertain the favor of any woman other than herself."

"Well, she wouldn't have to know it, and trust me, you would be very, very, entertained."

The butcher, obviously familiar with this particular patron, began to hurry Hannibal's order. Sawing away at the flesh he sliced the steaks quickly.

"Doctor Lecter, it will be just another minute," he offered in consolation.

Nodding his thanks, Hannibal looked to his shoulder, still covered by the woman's hand. He then turned his attention to the woman, herself.

"Forgive me I am being rude, allow me to introduce myself, Hannibal Lecter."

"I know who you are, Doctor Lecter." She gestured to the crowd, "We _all_ know who you are."

She squeezed his shoulder.

"Then I am at a disadvantage."

"I'm almost finished, Doctor…it won't be more than a minute."

The butcher, now in a panic, began slapping the steaks onto the paper. Hannibal, hearing the way the food was being handled examined the portly man's name tag and responded, "Please mind your work, Thomas. I have this in hand."

The butcher turned his attention to the woman.

"My God, Katie, I swear you got no shame in you! Leave Doctor Lecter alone."

"Oh, mind your business, Thomas."

Ignoring the butcher, she leaned in, moved her hand from Hannibal's shoulder to his chest, slipped it under his tie, dipped her fingers in between the buttons through the fabric and boldly stroked the hair on his chest. Curling against his body, she spoke and though her comments were directed to the butcher, she was speaking very obviously to Hannibal.

"I think Doctor Lecter can handle me, himself. He's a big man. _A…very…big…man_, from what I've heard…"

She leaned against him and whispered, completing the sentence in his ear, "… and I'm dying to find out what you've got tucked your pants."

"Madame, what I tuck into my pants is my wife's concern, not yours."

"Your wife can concern herself with washing them. I just want to get in them."

She removed her hand from his shirt and began to press against his torso, sliding her hand suggestively from his chest to his abdomen. When her fingers brushed his belt, Hannibal stepped back quickly and turned away from her body, toward the crowd.

"Madame, mind the placement of your hand. I am a married man and this is unseemly. While I am certain there are many men who would be more than thrilled to entertain such an offer. I am expressly uninterested."

The butcher interjected, "Doctor Lecter, your order."

The large man leaned over the counter and handed Hannibal his parcel.

Hannibal reached for the package and spoke to the man.

"Please put this young woman's order on my bill, Thomas…"

Hannibal turned toward the woman and continued, "…As it is the only manner in which I will sate her hunger."

The butcher began to laugh out loud, finally responding between guffaws, "You got it, Doc…that was priceless…priceless!"

Hannibal turned toward the woman and bowed graciously, "Madame, if you will please, excuse me. My magnificent wife awaits my arrival and I am most certainly not going to leave _her _wanting. Enjoy your meat. Clarice will, no doubt, _enjoy mine_."

Hannibal sped home in the Bentley realizing he would have to explain the exchange with Clarice in the event photos were taken.

Arriving with bags full of groceries swinging from his arms, Hannibal entered the home as Clarice came down the stairs carrying the baby.

"Well, hello, Clarice…" he boomed as he leaned to kiss his wife.

"Hey, H…got everything you need for tonight?"

"Yes, my Love, that and more." Hannibal spoke softly as he bent to kiss his child. "And how was our Little One's nap? Did he sleep well?"

"He had a great nap. He's a perfect little man."

"It is because he has the perfect mother, Clarice."

Hannibal turned and extending his arms, guided Clarice to follow him, groceries still in tow. Clarice sat at the breakfast bar, nursing the baby. Hannibal paused, watching the scene with rapt attention. Captivated, he wrapped his arms around his wife and son.

"I had a bit of a situation at the butcher's shop, my Love. There was a woman…"

"She flirt with you, H?"

"In a manner of speaking. She put her hand on me. It was difficult to extricate myself from the situation without…"

"As long as the answer to that sentence isn't _fucking her,_ I don't much care, H…I trust you. Just please, tell me she didn't touch you below your belt…if she did, I kill the bitch."

"No, Clarice. She placed a hand on my shoulder and chest. When she moved it lower, I made myself quite plain."

"Your Harpy, H?"

"It never left my sleeve."

"Pictures?"

"Cell phones, yes. They would appear compromising."

"Don't care. No worries, H…I know women will want you, God knows I did."

Hannibal admired his wife, "You are absolutely magnificent, Clarice…most wives would not be as understanding."

"Yeah, well, I'm not, _most wives_, H. I'm _your_ wife."

"Yes, Clarice. And I am your husband. _Always_."

Clarice smoothed the baby's hair back from his face as he suckled gently. She was madly in love her husband and now, with their child.

"H? Have you noticed, he never really cries? He fusses a little, but he doesn't scream bloody murder like most babies. Why do you think that is?"

Hannibal encircled his family and spoke softly as he held them close and watched his wife nurse.

"He is our son, Clarice, he will not be like most babies. Even at this age, the intelligence shines in his eyes. No, this child, much like his mother, is special."

"Thanks, H…it's sweet of you to say, even if it's not true."

"Clarice?"

"H?"

Hannibal leaned in once more and nuzzled his face alongside his wife's neck, placing tender kisses. As Clarice leaned into the contact, craning her neck to allow his attention, Hannibal whispered, "_Clarice_…I _never_ lie."

"I know, H…I know."

Smiling, Clarice attended to the baby as Hannibal attended to the meal.

Hours later they would put their family time aside and greet their guests.

Hannibal had no problem sharing dinner with his wife's friends as he would do anything to please Clarice, but had little interest in viewing the programming. As the evening progressed, Hannibal appeared to grow distracted and anxious.

After dinner and dessert, when the time came for the group to move to the family room for the show, Hannibal excused himself from the room. Though his son was sleeping soundly, he announced the need to check on him. Clarice understood he was officially exempting himself from further participation.

Just before Hannibal left the room, Barney spoke up.

"Would you mind if I joined you, Hannibal. I'd like to see the little guy again."

Hannibal turned to face his ex-jailer. Lecter's eyes shifted briefly to Clarice and back to Barney. Pausing, it seemed as if he had something he wished to say, but the urge faded and he nodded, "Certainly, Barney. Join me when you're ready."

Hannibal left the room without waiting.

Understanding that Hannibal wanted nothing more than to leave the room before the start of the documentary, Barney was not offended. He stood and began to cross the room interrupted by a grasping arm as he passed behind Logan.

Logan twisted his body to face Barney and complained boyishly, "Hey, I want to see the little man, _too_."

Barney turned toward Logan and suggested in a friendly but assertive tone, "You get the next shift, Logan. We can't have everybody tramping up there waking the little guy up."

Releasing Barney's arm, Logan folded his massive arms across the expanse of his powerful chest and pouting, sat back on the sofa, obviously disappointed.

"Okay, outta respect to my buddy I'll wait my turn but I get to go up there next. Just because you've known Hannibal longer doesn't mean the baby's gonna like you better. Dude, kids_ love_ me."

Laughing, Barney consented, "Kids love you, _Dude_, because they recognize one of their own."

Ardelia and Clarice lowered their heads, obviously amused, but held their laughter to mild giggles.

Logan was obviously really put out by the situation. Not having Hannibal present to appeal to, he muttered, "Very funny, _Barnstormer."_

Clarice, stuffing her hand in a bowl and chomping on a fistful of popcorn admonished good-humoredly, "Hey, you two, play nice!"

Ardelia, munching on the snack as well, joined, "Yeah, Logan, don't go getting all jealous every time Hannibal leaves the room with someone other than you."

"I'm not jealous…I'm…I'm…" Logan huffed. Frustrated he couldn't come up with a witty response he conceded, "Okay, maybe I'm a little jealous, but it's not fair. Why do I have to stay down here and he gets to go up and see the baby?"

Clarice consoled, "Don't worry, Logan. You can play with the baby when he wakes up. I wanted Barney to entertain Hannibal while the show is on. H doesn't want to watch it, okay? Don't take it personally. Your buddy doesn't even know about it."

Ardelia nudged Logan, "And don't go saying something stupid and tipping him off either. "

"Hey, I can be trusted!" the large man insisted.

Barney interjected, "Hey, let's not pretend Hannibal didn't figure all of this out. Did you see the way he paused when I asked if I could join him? He's on to me, he's just too bored and too polite to put up a fuss about it."

Clarice nodded, "Yeah, you're probably right but he'll roll with it while you're here but I'm sure I'll hear about it later."

Barney quickly affirmed, "I'm sure; better you than me, Clarice."

"Thanks Barney."

As a sort of consolation prize, Ardelia offered the bowl of popcorn to Logan. He wrapped his arms around it and began stuffing it in his mouth, pouting as he chewed.

Ardelia explained, "Nobody said that you can't be trusted, Logan, it's just that Hannibal trusts Barney. He's comfortable with him. Clarice knows what she's doing. Just give Barney a little while with Hannibal, okay."

Still petulant, Logan questioned, "What's a _little while_?"

Barney stood in the doorway. The ex-Marine could not believe he was still entertaining this conversation, "Okay, look…you can all sort this out. I'm outta here. I'll be with Hannibal. You've got your hands full."

Clarice nodded her appreciation and responded warmly, "Thanks, Barney."

Logan rolled his eyes, "Yeah…_thanks, Barney_."

**Until the next chapter, my friends!**

**LH**


	138. Chapter 138

**THE SUMMATION OF LIFE**

Unaware and unconcerned with the goings-on in the family room, Hannibal entered the baby's bedroom and moved silently toward the crib. The room was darkened, the only light streaming from the hallway, ebbing through the elegant crib, illuminating his son's profile.

_I have done much to ensure you will have the very best start I can offer you, my son. I hope my efforts will be adequate. My past has been a burden I have long carried without thought or regret. I pray with all I am that my efforts on your behalf have lowered that yoke, that you never be forced to shoulder it. _

Standing beside the baby's crib, Hannibal rested his hand very lightly on the child's torso, allowing it to ride up and down with each breath taken by his son. He stroked his thumb, feeling the inhalations expanding the rib cage of this small, treasured body, marveling at the life he and Clarice created.

_You are not only the full measure of the love your mother and I share, you are the summation of our lives together. I will watch over you always, my son._

Now, with the cameras removed and the production staff gone, Hannibal and Clarice felt comfortable moving their son from their bedroom into his own room, though, for the most part, he only napped there. Because Clarice breastfed throughout, the child slept in their bed on and off for a good part of the night. Hannibal enjoyed visiting this little sanctuary. Standing over this tiny life brought him tremendous peace.

The solace of the moment interrupted, Hannibal's attention shifted as he became aware of Barney's approach.

Probably from the long years at the asylum, Hannibal's ex-keeper had a definite calming influence and his presence, whether the good doctor would admit consciously or not, did in some way still the brilliant man. Clarice invited Barney because she correctly assessed Hannibal's calmness around the man was based on her husband's ability to detect Barney's protective feelings toward him. The man had proven, again and again that he felt responsible for Hannibal's care outside the bounds of his employment. He took that accountability beyond his duties, even to the point of requesting with all the vehemence in his power, to travel to Memphis. Chilton foolishly disallowed it. It cost him his life.

Hannibal's dignity was not preserved during the transport. Barney was forced to apologize, as he could not even provide privacy while he held the urinal assisting the fully bound Hannibal in the emptying of his bladder prior to the flight. It was no surprise to Barney when he discovered that, in pursuit of freedom, Lecter mercilessly tore through them all. Barney often wondered if he had been present in Memphis, would Hannibal have killed him as well? He thought he might ask, though he assumed the answer might distress.

Waiting until the large man was fully in the room, Hannibal spoke aloud, without turning to face his friend.

"His birth was difficult, but Devyni showed he is a fighter. Much like his mother, he is magnificent."

Not surprised that Hannibal detected his presence, Barney approached quietly and not to wake the child, whispered in a tone he knew only Hannibal would hear, "Wow. The more I see him, the more he looks like you. It's a little eerie."

Hannibal removed his hand from the crib and, with the tilt of his head signaled for Barney to follow him from the room. Hannibal activated the intercom system as he exited. When they reached the hallway, while pulling the door closed Hannibal spoke so thoughtfully, the wistful nature of it shocked his friend.

"Thankfully, young Hannibal has his mother's eyes. Carrying my name will be burden enough."

Touched by the moment and overcome by the sentiment, Barney put a hand on Hannibal's shoulder as the pair stood in the hallway just outside the baby's room. He left it for just a moment. Long enough to lend support, and though he thought better of it almost instantly, he had committed to the action.

"You shouldn't think that. Your wife is proud of you. Your son will be as well."

After having been physically accosted in the butcher's shop, Hannibal was sensitive to the contact. His head lowered for a moment, his eyes shifting to Barney's hand and back to the man's eyes.

_What is this, Touch a Cannibal Day?_

Supervising his incarceration, Barney had physically handled Hannibal for years. He'd put his hands on every inch of the man and seen him in every state in which one man can see another and yet this was the first time the contact between them approached the tactile comfort of a friend consoling his friend.

_Oh, Christ…what have I done?_

Seeing Hannibal's piercing maroon eyes focused intensely at the touch, Barney's heart raced a little, his hand trembling as he wondered what Hannibal was thinking. He assumed he understood their relationship but this was an invisible line he, until this very moment, had never dared to cross.

_Jesus, you've had your hands on him enough for ten lifetimes without his permission…why'd you touch him now? You know better...never touch him…_

Feeling not only the tremulous hand, but too, the man's unease, Hannibal forgave the breach in their established etiquette. He graced his friend with an affable smile even as he placed his own hand on Barney's shoulder, a silent assent that no offense had been taken in the gesture.

"It's kind of you to say so, Barney, but I have no illusions. I will shoulder the weight of my actions and as such, will make no effort to hide my deeds from my child. I have done all I can to alleviate some of the stigma of my past. As I feel my actions were justified, I have no fear of judgment. Either from my family or my God."

Though the reference to God caught him off-guard, he left it alone for now.

The pair moved down the hallway and descended the stairs quickly with Barney a mere step behind Hannibal. Barney spoke as they walked.

"Well, you've given back as many lives as you've taken so that should count for something; don't you think?"

"Perhaps." Having arrived at the foot of the stairs, Hannibal offered, "Barney, I have no desire to see the scheduled programming or listen to the accompanying running commentary by the women or, possibly more to the point, Logan. You may join the others if you wish, or you are welcome to join me in my study to fulfill what I perceive is your promise to my wife. The choice is yours; I'll not be offended in either case."

"I don't have a burning need to see it. If you don't mind me tagging along, I'd prefer your company to Logan's. Clarice's worries aside, I really miss our talks. Seems I got used to having your ear now and then."

Without further commenting on his wife's participation, Hannibal moved toward the study with Barney again a step behind.

Hannibal paused for a moment as he stood at the entrance to the doorway, sweeping an arm to direct that Barney precede him.

"You have my direct phone number, Barney, and as such, you may have my ear whenever you like."

Barney chuckled as he entered the room and took the seat across from Hannibal's desk. He knew from past experience, the doctor would sit in the large chair behind it.

Hannibal did indeed sit in the leather chair and as the man settled, comfortably gripping the ornately carved scrollwork on the arm of the chair, Barney watched with privileged admiration. The ex-orderly likened the experience to viewing the last of something. As if Hannibal were a king or a savage prince somehow out of his time; that taken was he with Hannibal's regality.

With an unusually commanding presence for a man of just over average height and build, there was a simmering lethality in his stillness and a power to his majestic bearing that was both engaging and terrifying. So splendid and imposing was this man that Barney thought to himself, if Hannibal had indeed delivered his death, the ex-orderly's last thoughts would be rendered with shades of dread and awe.

"Well, I'm not much for the phone and somehow, I just don't see you enjoying that much, either. You don't seem the telephone type. It's another thing, to see the person you're talking to. Much more intimate and engaging, don't you think?"

Hannibal shifted, crossing one leg over the other as he nodded in agreement.

"Yes. I do believe that as well, and you are correct in that I detest the telephone if there is no clear point to the conversation but I do value your friendship. If you ever have need of me, please, feel free. Day or night, no matter, I am at your disposal."

"You know well enough to do the same."

Hannibal raised his arm and indicated the scar on his wrist where his hand, with Barney's intervention, had been reattached.

"I have, my friend. Were it not for your intervention that evening on the Chesapeake I would most likely not have this hand and by extension, would not have Clarice."

Barney shook his head. He was uncomfortable with this topic and suddenly became very preoccupied with the texture of his trousers, rubbing his palms over his knees.

"Nah…The hand…maybe…that might have gone differently, but I can't see anyway you'd be without Clarice. It's destiny."

Hannibal rocked casually, tipping the chair like a metronome as he revealed his thoughts. "I don't believe our futures are preordained. Without the hand, I may not have sought her out. There would have been too much between us to overcome."

That thought, that there were circumstances by which Hannibal would not have attempted to be with Clarice, shocked him.

"You'd _blame_ her for it?"

Hannibal dismissed that notion with the shake of his head.

"Never, though she would and does on occasion, blame herself. Clarice often seeks to carry the weight of those she feels are damaged or are in need of protection. I would not be able to bear her perceiving me as such. It is enough of a burden to love me. Had the mutilation remained, she would not only have seen me as weakened, but would have sought to carry the blame for it as well. I would not have allowed either, and as such, the injury would have kept me from her."

The concept of God touched on earlier, Barney thought it might be a good time to find out what Hannibal believed and didn't believe. The doctor's mind was not only of superior capacity, his intellect unequaled but combined with his education and unique moral structure, Hannibal's perception of the concept of divinity and theology interested Barney immensely.

"Nah, you would've been with Clarice no matter what. It was meant to be, so, by the grace of God, you have a wonderful wife and a beautiful new baby boy. You're a truly blessed man, my friend."

Hannibal's eyes brightened, intrigued by the conversation.

"By the grace of God? Perhaps. Blessed? It would please me to think that, more so now than at any other point in my life, and yes; the concept of a deity interests me. My mother was a woman of great faith. I myself cannot say for certain, though I have long considered the question."

Seeing Hannibal was not shying from the topic, Barney continued, "I was always curious as to your opinion on the concept. Whether or not you believed in God."

The arch of an eyebrow signaled Hannibal's curiosity.

"And yet, you never asked?"

"Didn't seem an appropriate question when it first came to mind. We had a very different relationship at the time. You were so taken by church collapses, though, I always assumed you had a formal faith structure…religious education and beliefs."

"I do."

"Me too. Don't think he's a grey-haired white dude though."

"The concept is interesting isn't it, that of the anthropomorphized deity, the personification of the Supreme Being? If Sir John Dalberg-Acton was correct in his estimation that absolute power corrupts absolutely, one might assume an omniscient and omnipotent deity would be exceptionally cruel with a potentially twisted sense of humor. Not that I find that distasteful; in my estimation a ruthless God is preferable to one compassionate to the point of impotence."

"Sir John? British nobleman? Must've been Protestant."

"English-Catholic, actually."

Barney smiled as he pursued the thought. "Not many of those running around. So what do you think? Is there something after this life?"

"It is conceivable, if not preferable for most people, myself included, to believe there is something after this life, though the form it takes is anyone's guess."

Barney found it intensely interesting that Hannibal might believe in an afterlife. He had, after all taken many lives and surely if one did believe in the concept of heaven and hell, there would be negative repercussions in any form of Final Judgment for one such as Hannibal. Barney held the thought for a moment as he attempted to ascertain whether or not this exceptional man would be offended if that thought had been presented.

For now, Barney played it safe, asking simply, "Anyone you'd want to meet up with again?"

"No."

And, with the blink of an eye, Hannibal immediately disengaged.

_Okay…no more talk about that…Don't want to piss off the big guy with the pointy knife._

The response was so sudden, Barney thought better than to pry. In all the years he knew Hannibal, his friend would share what he was comfortable sharing. It probably wasn't even a matter of comfort. Barney believed that Hannibal would share no more information than was relevant to whatever point he chose to make. If the topic exceeded his comfort level, as was obvious here, Hannibal would cease to communicate, making the boundaries absolutely clear.

If Hannibal did not believe Barney needed to know something, Barney didn't need to know it and he was fine with that. Considering the good doctor's immediate disengagement, Barney now thought changing the subject might be a good idea.

_Should I ask? Would he actually answer? Sure…what the hell do we have to lose, anyway? It's purely hypothetical, after all, and I'm just damned curious…damned curious._

The seed of this question had been germinated, growing and trailing much like invasive ivy, twisting itself within his subconscious mind for years. He thought now might be a good time to weed it out.

"Can I ask you a question, Hannibal? About the time you escaped in Memphis?"

Hannibal's body stiffened slightly, though his expression remained unchanged. His fingers tented, he tapped them continually to his lips.

"You may."

Barney swung one leg over the other as he relaxed his body language, hoping to draw the tension from the question he posed.

"That first meeting, after Miggs attacked, when I heard you call Clarice back to you cell, you were disturbed."

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"She was a thing of such beauty, innocence and purity that when Miggs defiled her in so base a manner, I was upset. Indirectly, she was my guest and would not see her harmed in such a manner without redress. It was my duty to defend her honor."

Barney leaned forward, resting his forearm on his knee.

"No matter what they did to you, how they tried to hurt you, Chilton and the like, you never made a sound. You never called out. To hear you so distraught…I'd never heard you distressed like that before, or since. At that moment, even though you had just met her, I realized that you were incapable of harming her, even then."

Hannibal sat very still, considering that moment and the impact it had on his life. Had Miggs not acted as such, it was entirely possible Clarice would have been a pleasant thought he might have revisited from time to time, but no more.

_Pre-Destination...what an amusing concept in relation to the events of that day? That would have meant if Barney was indeed correct, that God himself guided Miggs' hand, leading Clarice to him. Divine Intervention in the form of a deviant's self-gratification. It is indeed an irreligious and exceedingly amusing thought._

Hannibal was exceptionally entertained by the concept. He turned his thoughts to Barney.

"That is an accurate statement. What is your question?"

"I wanted to go on that flight to stay with you because I knew they'd mistreat you but Chilton wouldn't allow it, so, my question is, if I had been in Memphis would you have killed me to escape?"

Barney held his breath as he awaited the response.

Dispassionately Hannibal angled his head slightly as he formed the explanation.

"That would have depended upon your behavior, Barney. I would have done everything in my power to in some way disable you, but you are a much larger man with elite military training and experience in hand-to-hand combat and my resources were minimal. If it had come down to my freedom, or your life…?"

Hannibal had no intention of completing the thought. The intention was plain.

Realizing the answer, Barney uncharacteristically interrupted, "I'd be a dead man."

Hannibal confirmed. "Although there would have been no pleasure in it for me, it is likely, yes."

Barney sat back and smiled.

"Well, at least I know you wouldn't have enjoyed it. Trust me, I'd let you walk before I would have forced you to gut me. I felt responsible for you. Still do to this day, but I'm a practical guy. If you'd gotten loose, I would've held the door for you. No job is worth dying for. Especially not that one."

Suddenly, Hannibal leaned forward and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes lifting to the door.

Barney noticed the unease and questioned, "Something wrong?"

Disconcerted, Hannibal replied, "That remains to be seen."

_**Until the next chapter my friends, **_

_**LH**_


	139. Chapter 139

**FEARS**

Hannibal closed his eyes for a moment, obviously irritated.

"Logan is heading in this direction," he knitted his brow before continuing, "and I believe he is carrying my son, though I have no idea why it is something my wife would allow."

Though the comment surprised him, Barney reassured, "Well…she might know something about him we don't. He did say he's good with kids."

Noticeably exasperated, Hannibal gripped the arms of the chair and began to almost imperceptibly twist the chair from side to side, as if the action might in some way restrain his irritation. He spoke very quietly as he considered the reason for his upset.

"It is curious that I am so disturbed by this situation. I have willingly and with great confidence placed my life in Logan's hands on two different occasions, however, placing my son in his hands appears to be another matter entirely."

Understanding fully, Barney agreed, "Well, he's a hell of a sniper, but, as a caretaker for a newborn I don't think he'd be my first choice either. Do you really think Clarice told him to bring you the baby?"

"She is interested in the viewing the documentary, though it seems unlikely she would choose television programming over her child."

Barney continued, "She's so protective of the little guy it seems incredibly out of character."

"That was my initial concern though Clarice is approaching very quickly and from the urgency of her pace I believe Logan removed the child surreptitiously from the crib."

This thought hadn't occurred to Barney. After all, who would walk into a child's room without parental permission and remove a baby from his crib? It seemed a stretch, even for Logan. Incredulous, Barney watched Hannibal for a cue. Though his words signaled emotional disturbance, the brilliant man's bearing and facial expression remained neutral.

Barney furthered the dialogue with two words.

"You think?"

Still appearing impassive, Hannibal explained, "That is my thought. We would be prudent to prepare for an aggressive response. I don't believe Logan has had much experience with an overtly protective and particularly hormonal new mother. Especially not one such as my Clarice."

Still appalled by the suggestion that Logan might actually have taken the baby without permission, Barney smoothed a large, work roughened palm over his mouth as he emphasized, "If he took the baby out of his crib, Clarice's gonna kick his ass!"

As a perceptive grin slowly crossed his face Hannibal visibly relaxed. Leaning back in his chair he prepared for the show he knew was about to occur. His voice lost the sharpened edge as his stance on the issue shifted from irritation to curiosity.

Hannibal's expression had slowly evolved from a flat affect to a wry smile as the gratified husband beamed with pride.

"Yes, I do believe my lioness is about to roar."

Barney hooked an index finger in the collar of his shirt, loosening the tightness he perceived.

"Is it getting hot in here or is it me?"

Hannibal's head inclined slightly as he reflected, amused not only by the rhetorical question as he watched the door, but also preparing for fireworks as Logan bounced innocently into the room with the baby in his arms.

Logan's relaxed demeanor made it clear he was oblivious to the gravity of the circumstance to which he had unknowingly exposed himself. His heart might have been racing had he been aware that because of his well-meaning but impetuous act, an irate new mother was closely in pursuit.

"Hey guys! Look who's up from his nap," Logan exalted as he gently cradled the baby in his massive arms going so far as to tilt him forward to display the child's calm demeanor in his presence. As Logan illustrated the baby's comfort with him, he pronounced gleefully, "See, Barney, I _told_ you he'd love me!"

Barney shook his head and warned indirectly, "Hey, _Genius_, does Clarice know you have her baby?"

"No. Why? I was in the dining room getting more food when I heard the little guy gooing over the intercom so I ran up the stairs and just picked him up."

Clearly appalled, Hannibal protested, "_Gooing? _My son does not _goo."_

Logan stood, dumbstruck. He was taken aback by the reactions and was ill-prepared to respond.

"Well…he was making baby noises…what do you call it?"

"I call it what it is called, Logan. My son was vocalizing. It is the first stage of language acquisition."

Barney shook his head at Logan's comment and slapping both hands on his thighs he chuckled his response, "_Gooing_…priceless."

Suddenly, irate, Clarice burst into the room.

"Logan! _What the fu…"_

Having been prepared for the onslaught of profanity he was certain would follow, Hannibal quickly interrupted. "_Clarice..."_

Clearly horrified, Clarice approached Hannibal's desk pounded her fist on it, pointed back at Logan and thrusting her hand repeatedly in his direction as if stabbing the man with the rhythm of each word confronted through gritted teeth, "_He…took…the…baby…out of…his…crib…H!"_

Satisfied Clarice had not sanctioned Logan's bonding efforts and more than a little impressed with her audacity, Hannibal sought to comfort his wife.

"My Love, initially I was upset as well, however, let us put this in perspective. Logan was merely showing his affection for our son. Let us not forget, if not for his efforts on my behalf, we would not be having this conversation. He has proven he is trustworthy and it isn't as if he walked out the front door with him."

Clarice stood in front of Hannibal literally shaking with anger.

"Don't you think I'm not considering that? It's the only reason Pretty Boy here's still breathing right now."

Seeing the intensity of her rage, Logan backed away from her, visibly shaken.

"What's going on?" he questioned, desperately confused.

Barney explained bluntly, "You babynapped Hannibal, Dumbass. You're toast."

Logan, absolutely clueless, stood in the center of the room turning his entire body from side to side in search of an ally.

"What? What? I didn't babynap him he's right here! What's going on?"

Barney lowered his head and covered his mouth to muffle his laughter, clearly amused but not foolish enough to comment and risk Clarice's wrath.

Hannibal offered, "If you don't want Logan holding the baby, you are the boy's mother, Clarice. You need no one's permission to take your child."

Ardelia burst into the room.

"Hey, the show's back on…what's going on? Why am I alone in there?" she noticed Logan holding the baby, "Hey, wait a minute…what the heck are _you _doing with the baby."

Clarice slipped her hands under her son and carefully lifted him from Logan's arms.

"I just wanted to hold the baby…Geesh, you all act like I stuffed him in a duffle bag and snuck out the back door with him."

Ardelia grabbed Logan by the arm and tugged him, urging, "You wanted to watch the documentary, come on and watch it!"

Logan lowered his head, obviously dejected as he muttered, "I just wanted _all_ the guys to hang out, Little Dude included. It's a special occasion. Look! I brought a gift in the baby's honor."

Logan reached into his pocket and pulled a small box, about the size of two decks of cards set end to end. He handed it to Hannibal.

"What's this?" Hannibal inquired as he turned the package over in his hand.

"It's a gift, in honor of your son. A man's first born son…it's a big deal."

Hannibal was clearly uncomfortable.

Clarice, seeing his hesitation urged, "Hannibal Lecter, open your gift."

Looking down, he hooked his finger between the tape and the folded corner of the wrapping paper and pulled, releasing the hold. Carefully unwrapping the paper, Hannibal withdrew the object from the paper, opened the box and removed a silver case.

Logan explained excitedly, "It's from 1894. It's real sterling silver. You can see the maker's mark on the back. I had the guy at the store look it up for me, Webster was the maker."

Clarice leaned forward.

"What is it, H?"

"It's an antique cigar case, Clarice. Very ornately carved with our son's birthdate engraved on the back." Hannibal addressed Logan, obviously touched by the gesture.

"Come on, Hannibal…open it." Logan encouraged.

Hannibal slid the sections apart. Within the case, three cigars each with a blue band marked, _IT'S A BOY!_"

Staring at the gift, Hannibal was momentarily without words.

Eagerly, Logan explained, "It's tradition to share a cigar with your friends after a baby's born. Three cigars…three friends."

_Three friends…_

"It's an exceptional gift, my friend. Thank you."

Blushing, Logan replied, "It's nothing…just a token of my friendship, that's all."

Surprised at the thoughtfulness of the act, Barney joined, "No, Logan…really. That was very classy gesture. Well done."

Hannibal looked to his wife.

"Clarice? My friends and I would like to share a celebratory cigar in honor of the birth of our son, would that be acceptable?"

Smiling, Clarice conceded, "Sure, H…wait 'til we take the baby in the other room. Just close the door and open a window."

"Thank you, Clarice."

Logan scooted behind Ardelia, quickly ushering her out of the room, obviously thrilled to be included in the male bonding ritual he himself initiated.

Ardelia kissed his cheek, smiling at his eagerness.

Logan whispered "Dee! He's letting me _stay!_"

Whispering in return, Ardelia responded, "Yes, he is. Pretty cool isn't it?"

Logan nodded, his voice barely containing his elation, "Dude…_totally_."

Clarice joined, "That was a good thing you did, Logan. I know it means a lot to Hannibal."

Logan leaned out of the room, "You think so?"

"I know so."

Logan looked back toward the room and back to Ardelia and Clarice, giving the women an enthusiastic thumbs-up as he closed the door to join the men.

Laughing, Clarice and Ardelia took the baby down the hall to the family room to watch the remainder of the documentary.

The women sat together on the sofa with Ardelia considering a question as she watched the footage. It nagged at the back of her mind, though she was hesitant to express her concern. She turned her focus momentarily to the men.

Understanding how important Hannibal's friendship was to her boyfriend, Ardelia was happy for Logan and wanted Clarice to know how much Hannibal's acceptance meant to her, even though that wasn't what she wanted to discuss.

"It was really cool of Hannibal to let Logan hang out. I know Barney's his real friend but it means a lot to Logan to be included."

Responding to Ardelia without turning her head from the television, Clarice watched the documentary as she nursed her son.

"Yeah, I'm actually really relieved Hannibal welcomed Logan. I felt a little guilty leaving him out of the loop like that but I try not to force too much on H when it comes to social interaction. He can only take so much of it, then, he's done. If I forced Logan on him, H would be polite, but Logan would sense it. It's much better this way. I have to say, that gift was really thoughtful. I honestly didn't think that jarhead had it in him."

Ardelia agreed, "Logan's been trying a lot harder lately. I think Hannibal is who Logan wants to be when he grows up."

"Trust me when I say that's not such a bad goal." Smiling as if she were privy to inside information she continued, beaming, "If he even comes close, Dee, you'll be _thrilled_."

Clarice and Ardelia sat, side by side, watching the documentary and enjoying being alone together. Clarice nursed the baby as Ardelia watched the footage, spell-bound.

Ardelia, the thought still gnawing away at the back of her mind, questioned, "Clarice?"

Concentrating on the footage and oblivious to her friend's concern, Clarice returned, "Yeah, Dee?"

_Just ask her, damn it!_

"Okay, don't get pissed off, but, during the filming there are times Hannibal is a little scary, like when he found out you changed the photo for the paper."

"What? _Scary?_ He was just standing there. He didn't even raise his voice."

"Yeah, but he was standing there so freaking still."

"Yeah, so? He was upset…he's my husband. He's bound to get mad at me once in a while. Married couples fight. We're no different than any other couple."

"I suppose so…"

The baby finished nursing, so Clarice lifted him to her shoulder and began to rub his back. She turned to Ardelia and questioned with an irritated tone, "Why do I get the feeling you're not saying everything you're thinking?"

Immediately perceiving her friend's displeasure, Ardelia hedged, "Never mind. I don't want to upset you."

Clarice pursued, "Dee, since when are there things you can't say to me? I love H, but I'm not blind and I'm not so overly sensitive that I'm going to get upset if you have an opinion. It's the fact that you're beating around the bush that's upsetting. Hell, if you've got something to say just freaking say it."

"I'm just checking in, okay? I want to make sure everything's good for you. I mean… sometimes…when babies are born…things change. I just need to hear from you that everything is okay."

"Dee, he _loves_ me."

"I know…but…if you were ever scared…you'd tell me, right?"

"_Really, Dee?"_ Clarice, recognizing the part of the documentary currently airing, pointed to the television, "Watch _this_ part."

Ardelia and Clarice sat side by side, watching the documentary.

As the cameras rolled, the couple slept soundly with Clarice's head resting on her husband's chest and his arms wrapped securely around her. Soon, the baby began to stir and Clarice immediately rolled away from her husband to get their son, obviously ready for a feeding. Hannibal, feeling her rise reached out and stayed her movement.

Without a sound or word exchanged between them Hannibal sat up in bed, vigorously rubbed his fingers through his hair as if trying to wrest the sleep from his mind, and left the bed. Crossing the room, he lifted his son from the cradle, cuddling his child he rested the baby's cheek against his own as carried his son to Clarice.

Lowering carefully to a knee he carefully placed the baby in his wife's arms, allowing Clarice to gather the baby to her breast. Obviously exhausted, Hannibal crawled across the bed and took his place beside his wife. Settling in bed, he wrapped his arms around his wife and held his family close.

The room was silent until Hannibal, in an attempt to keep Clarice awake as she nursed, whispered his love to her. The sensitive microphones picked up every word of his loving exchange. The scene was all that was seen in the photo from the paper and more. It showed a depth of feeling that shocked even Ardelia.

"Wow, Clarice…wow."

"You see that, Dee? That's why I chose that photo. Because it _wasn't staged_…that's us…that's H, and that's the problem."

"What's the problem?"

"It's the reason I asked H to do this. You're not the only one who thinks like that."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see…it's coming up."

After the passage of several minutes, the section of the documentary including Clarice's interview came up. The producer and Clarice were standing in the baby's room as Clarice folded baby clothing. The producer began the interview, asking plainly, "So, Clarice…your husband is fairly famous. Wouldn't you say?"

Clarice was putting baby clothing in the child's armoire. She answered as she worked, "I don't know if famous is the right word. Well, I guess it is. He's very well known."

"Perhaps infamous is more appropriate?"

"Are you attempting to be offensive to get a reaction? If so, sorry to disappoint."

The producer re-grouped.

"It's not that I'm trying to bait you. It's only that…well, we've received a lot of emails and the one question the viewers had, the thing they most want to know is, are you ever afraid?"

Unflappable, Clarice responded very quickly. "I'm no more afraid of H than he is of me."

"Really? You have no fear in relation to your husband?"

"I didn't say that, but, I don't go to sleep every night in the arms of _Hannibal the Cannibal_, okay? That monster was created and hyped up by the editors of the Tattler because it's easier to say he's scary and he's crazy because he's too complicated for their tiny minds to comprehend."

"You think he's misunderstood?"

"I don't think he is…I know he is. He's my lover, my husband and the father of my son. How could I ever be afraid of that?"

"Are you surprised he agreed to this?"

"No. I knew he would."

"How were you so certain? He seems to be a very private man."

"He's a very private man forced to live a very public life and he's uncomfortable showing this much of us, but I insisted because I want everyone to see the emotional depth of the man. I was certain he'd agree because I asked him and there isn't a thing he would deny me."

"You inferred there's something in connection to your husband that frightens you…what is it, specifically?"

"Contrary to popular opinion, as you've seen staying here with us these last few days, he's not some supernatural dungeon dweller. He's just a man. A brilliant, very gifted man, very loving man, but he's a man just the same. He has wants like any other man and he has needs and feelings and insecurities, just like any other man. You want me to tell you if he frightens me? He does. _Every day_. I'm scared to death that _one day_ soon...far sooner I'm sure than I'll ever be prepared for, I'll have to kiss him goodbye for the final time and face the rest of my life without him. I honestly don't know how to do that and the thought of it terrifies me. Yeah…I'm afraid…every day of my life. I'm afraid of losing him."

The camera zoomed in on an obviously teary-eyed Clarice, the screen faded to black and the documentary ended.

Ardelia sat, staring ahead at the television.

"Jesus…Clarice…Jesus. I had no idea it was like that… I'm so sorry."

"Me too, Dee…me too."

**Until the next chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	140. Chapter 140

**SEARCHING**

With the documentary having aired several weeks previous and the curiosity of the general public somewhat abated, Clarice thought it time they take their son out for an extended period to give him some fresh air.

With the baby now just over six weeks old, they had only dared take him out for small trips around town. Once or twice, they ventured out for lunch or dinner, Hannibal wary to attempt anything longer than an hour or two.

"Come on, H…For the most part, after the documentary, people seem to be less afraid of you."

"Yes, well, the only problem with people being less afraid is that they are also much more likely to approach, Clarice."

"Yeah, so?"

This was not a problem for Clarice, as she loved showing off her family, but Hannibal was not as trusting as she. Ever protective, he loomed whenever someone approached to coo over and comment on the baby. He didn't relish an entire day of it. After a brief discussion during which Hannibal voiced his extensive concerns, with no small degree of trepidation he conceded and agreed to take the family for their first day trip.

"Very well, Clarice. If you would like to venture out as a family, you may choose our destination and I shall be by your side throughout."

"I have a great idea, if you're game, H."

Clarice decided it would be fun to spend the day exploring the 160 plus acres of the National Zoo. Much as Hannibal had no desire, for his family he would make the effort, though he suspected they would be as much an attraction as the exhibits.

Clarice busied herself putting together a large bag filled with diapers, spare clothing, and all the items she believed might be needed throughout the afternoon.

Knowing the security measures at a Washington tourist attraction would be fairly extensive Hannibal took to the Internet to assay the protocol. Unlike the Air and Space Museum, and one or two other Smithsonian sites, there would be no metal detector required for entry at the zoo. Still, there would be a physical bag check and no doubt intense scrutiny of his person. With all the press surrounding his family, Hannibal reasoned carrying a concealed weapon with the possibility of it being uncovered publicly would be an ill-considered decision in a situation that would not require lethal force, thus, he left the Harpy at home.

The website cautioned there were exhibition areas and buildings where strollers would have to be left outside, therefore, Hannibal measured it would be best to carry the baby. It would not only ease their ability to move through the park, it would allow them to shield the child from curious bystanders. Worried the effort would be too much on his wife, with pleasure, Hannibal consented to carry his son for the day.

They parked the car not far from the entrance to the park. Hannibal assisted Clarice from the car and helped her unload the Gucci diaper bag filled with supplies. Pulling an item from the bag that had a similar pattern Clarice presented it to Hannibal. It was brown, with leather straps and a small teddy bear on the logo. Clarice stood in front of her husband holding the object the sight of which caused Hannibal to immediately furrow his brow.

"I said I would _carry_ the boy, my Love."

"And this will _help_ you carry the boy, H."

She stood, unshakable in her determination, saying nothing. It was obvious she would not budge.

Hannibal was not pleased.

"Is this _really_ necessary, Clarice?"

"Hey, at least it's Gucci."

"_Clarice…"_

"Oh, stop bellyaching about it. It'll make it easier for you in the long run, H. When the baby falls asleep, which he most likely will for most of the day, he'll be far more comfortable and you won't have to worry about shifting him when your arms get tired and waking him up. Not to mention, he'll be able to listen to your heartbeat. If you don't want to do it, I will."

Hannibal stood outside his Bentley, looking at the baby carrier Clarice held out in front of him. It isn't as if he felt it wearing it might be an affront to his manhood, it just seemed, to him, to be unnecessary. He was, after all strong enough to carry a twelve or thirteen pound infant for the day. He stood quietly and considered the practicality of having the baby sleeping soundly against his body. Hannibal scuffed his foot along the ground and kicking up the sand around him, relented.

"Very well, Clarice. Strap the damn thing on me, then."

* * *

><p>Now within the park walking along the queue for entry, Hannibal's eyes shifted to the security personnel. Two men and one woman worked the detail. The woman was dealing with a rather large family all of whom seemed to be carrying bags of various sizes, all needing to be checked.<p>

No, she would most likely not be available when it came time to screen Hannibal and Clarice.

This turn of events was disappointing, as Hannibal believed Clarice might have been more comfortable with the woman. Hannibal certainly would have. Of the pair remaining, one of the men was an older gentleman, the other, exceptionally young and rail-thin.

Hannibal hoped the older and likely more practiced gentleman would be available as he would be less likely to be flustered by their presence. The youngster seemed a tad enthusiastic for Hannibal's taste, moving around the patrons low, prowling like a hyena scanning a carcass. He appeared to suspect even the most amiable and forthright patrons surveying them carefully. He behaved much less like the security guard he was and much more like the senior law enforcement officer he believed himself to be.

Hannibal, briefly distracted by the couple standing in line immediately in front of him, watched the interaction. They had one child, a son of about five.

As the boy chased around his mother's heels unchecked, Hannibal judged the woman's parenting and found it wanting.

_An ill behaved, poorly raised heathen to be sure. My son will be well mannered; especially with a firm handed mother such as Clarice. I am a lucky man to have such an exceptional woman as mother to my son._

As they moved forward, Hannibal counted the dwindling number of patrons ahead and when compared to the speed with which the younger man worked he ascertained they would most likely wind up with the youthful man. He was not pleased.

Having assessed the situation in much the same way, Clarice noticed her husband's discomfort, leaned against his body and whispered, "We might get the Junior G-Man, H. Please tell me you left your Harpy home."

With a playfully condescending tone, Hannibal confirmed, "Not to worry, Clarice. The Smithsonian website specifically mentions knives and other stabby things should not be carried, therefore, it is tucked safely beneath my pillow."

Clarice bumped her hip against his and flirted, "Ooh, H… _kinky!"_

"Yes, well, now that you have been cleared for such activity I was merely planning ahead. It has been quite some time, my Love. This is an ill-timed outing. I would have preferred to remain at home today."

"There'll be plenty of time for us, tonight, H."

"I will count the minutes, my Love."

Clarice reached her right hand for his left hand, clasping it gently, she squeezed. The desire in her grasp communicated a meaning that was more than clear to her husband.

_Clariiice…_

His eyes shifted to hers as a smile tugged briefly at the corners of his mouth.

The line beginning to move again, his attention quickly turned forward, though his thoughts clearly remained with his wife, his hand tightening around hers, clutching. Needing.

Feeling his father's movement, the baby gripped Hannibal's shirt, his small hand shaped similarly to his father's, the fingers equally long and elegant.

Clarice noted the similarity.

_He's so much like his father, my special men._

Looking down, Clarice studied her husband's hand still holding her hand so gently, his thumb continually tracing tiny patterns on her skin.

_His palm is so wide. _

The now-removed duplicate middle digit had originally expanded the breadth of his hand. She ran her thumb over the scar as the pair walked side-by-side, moving forward along as the line surged.

_So many scars…he's had to give up so much…he deserves to be happy._

Clarice began to obsess over the fact that Hannibal had been forced to maim himself in order to blend in. The rare form of mid-ray polydactylism of his left hand making him far too easy to spot, he had been forced to remove the finger. Clarice wondered how he felt, having to cut off part of himself to avoid detection. Perhaps, one day, she might ask. Now, she just wanted to touch him, to comfort him with her body as much as he had been a constant comfort to her.

The pregnancy had been difficult, restricting their physical activities. Clarice, now fully healed, began to encourage physical contact with Hannibal. Sensing her want and having similar need, he continued to stroke his thumb along the side of her hand. The feeling of the digit tracing along her skin sent shivers the length of his spine.

"Tonight, Clarice?"

"Come hell or high water, H."

Now at the front of the line Clarice moved through the checkpoint quickly, undergoing a brief search and inspection of her bag. When Hannibal moved forward, the security guard being not more than twenty years old and meeting Hannibal's intense maroon eyes stepped back quickly, obviously taken by surprise.

"Uh…hello, Doctor Lecter."

"Hello, young man."

The guard stood in front of Hannibal and surveyed the Gucci carrier strapped to his chest. His expression quizzical, he was weighing the options as he circled Hannibal, assessing the object.

Knowing the over-zealous youngster wouldn't miss the opportunity to interact with him in a more official capacity, Hannibal prepared himself for the eventuality of the examination.

_Come on now hurry this along Mr. Delusions of Grandeur. We both know you won't let me through your line without a bit of poking and prodding in front of your friends._

The overeager young man did not disappoint.

"Sorry, Sir but that baby thingy is kinda like a bag. I think I'm gonna have to look it over."

Hannibal winced at the young man's grammar and asked politely, "While it is strapped to my body with my child inside or may I hand my son to my wife temporarily so you may more thoroughly inspect?"

His expression vacant, the young man responded, "Hmm…dunno. I guess that's up to you, but, it'd probably go faster if the baby wasn't in it. It's really strappy, you know?"

Hannibal raised a hand, directing the young man to wait.

"Just a moment. I'll need my wife's assistance."

Hannibal waved his wife over as he lifted the baby from the pack around his chest.

"What's up, H? You having a problem?"

"Not as such, Clarice. Would you mind holding our son for a moment? It seems the carrier is subject to search."

Clarice approached slowly. Her eyes were fixed on Hannibal, though he could see from the slight deviation in the placement of her pupils, that she was assessing the guard in her periphery. She was obviously angry.

"The _carrier_ is subject to search, or _you_ are, H?" There was anger in her tone and a hint of recrimination directed at the security guard.

"As we are seeking entry and this young man determines our access, I don't believe that has any bearing, Clarice. Not to worry. He has but to check the carrier and we will be on our way."

As Hannibal handed the baby to Clarice and the pair discussed the situation, realizing what an opportunity he had the boy ran to a nearby friend and whispered very quickly.

Turning toward the guard Hannibal attuned his ear, picking up the words clearly.

"Take out your cell and film this. Nobody's gonna believe I got to search Hannibal the Cannibal!"

Unaware of the young man's comment but certain of his intent, Clarice removed the baby from her husband's arms and clutched him defensively to her chest as she stepped back. She could see the simmering anger in Hannibal's eyes and assumed the young man had said something offensive. Imperceptible to all aside from Clarice, within her husband's irises from the point at which the maroon radiated, ringing the pupils there were tiny flecks of a brighter shade of red; a crimson that sparked when he was angry or overcome with passion. The passion had no place here but the anger, faced with a barely post-pubescent young man seeking a measure of entertainment at his expense, the anger was certainly justified.

Having made the arrangement, the young man returned to Hannibal and, facing the camera smiling widely, began to search the carrier attached to the wary doctor.

The pimple-faced guard stood to Hannibal's right side and began to look within the pouch of the carrier as the good doctor stared forward, seething.

Finding nothing suspicious, the young man should have stopped, but instead gave the camera a thumbs-up continuing though there was no reason for him to do so. He smoothed his hands over the outside of the leather rigging, and tracked along the straps feeling the edges of the seams. He then boldly moved out of Hannibal's line of sight and, in full view of Clarice, turned again to face the cell phone. The guard slowly slipped his hands beneath the straps, running them up and down Hannibal's back, now obviously searching the man's body and not the child's conveyance.

Hannibal's body immediately stiffened, the offense now solidifying his resolve.

Clearly offended by the hands now moving over his torso and not the carrier, Hannibal shifted uncomfortably, transferring his weight from one leg to the other as the guard moved leisurely behind him, smoothing his hands across the span of his back, reaching under his arms to his abdomen and chest.

Reflexively raising his hands in the air above his head, Hannibal's body language signaled the very moment the bag check evolved into a search. Although his body remained still, Hannibal's attention shifted to Clarice, holding their child. Immolation in his gaze as his mind churned, his nostrils repeatedly flared, sub-consciously memorizing the scent of the man.

_You feel the need to certify your manhood in front of my wife and my infant son? For the insult to my family, I should kill you where you stand._

Eyes molten though the brilliant man outwardly appeared sedate, his wife noticed his jaw clenching and saw the homicide forming in his eyes as the glowering orbs remained fixated somewhere off in the distance. The rage began to build within her as well, agonized by the obvious profiling of her husband for the young man's self-aggrandizement.

As the unsolicited hands passed over his body, Hannibal slowed his heart rate and breathed deeply. The barrel of his ribs expanded to capacity with each inhalation as the now overlooked holder stretched tightly across his chest. Flashes of blood red began to strobe behind his eyelids, his anger pulsing within his ears as he briefly entertained his response to this offense had he had not been a married man.

_I could snap your undernourished neck and watch the light leave your eyes before I drop you to the pavement, you insolent waif. You should bow down on the ground before my wife and child and genuflect, as my promise to Clarice is the only reason you will be alive after sundown. Push this too far, and my promise will be broken._

This level of uninvited physical contact was not something expressly enjoyed by a man with a history such as Hannibal, not to mention, the indignity of the process as a small crowd began to form, murmuring their curiosity to one another as they watched the very public probing.

As the guard's hands moved over the pelvis and down the thigh, feeling at the front pockets, Hannibal flinched. This was far too close for comfort.

"Mind your hands, young man."

What should have been a cursory inspection had become an intrusive, uncomfortable and very, very public frisking and Clarice had had enough of it. She walked up to the guard and shoved his shoulder, forcing him back several steps.

"Hey, Junior! He isn't waiting to be Mirandized, you know."

Her action garnered the attention of the older guard. The man turned, saw the activity and shouted, "Hey, Matt! Are you crazy? No touching the patrons!"

Hannibal snapped his head toward the young man so quickly the whelp jumped back two steps in fear.

"Yes, Matt…_no touching_," he hissed.

The fledgling sentry held his hand out in apology.

Hannibal's eyes shifted from the boy's hand and back to his face. Deadpan he announced, "Forgive me if I decline. I think I've endured all the physical contact I am comfortable with for the day."

"My bad, I was just trying to do my job."

"Bullshit." Clarice countered as she handed the baby back to her husband.

While her anger didn't approach his, her hormones were in flux and her self-control, unlike Hannibal's, was at this moment absolutely non-existent. She didn't appreciate the way her husband was being treated and didn't feel the need or possess the desire to withhold her heightened agitation.

No longer encumbered by the baby, Clarice walked up to the young man holding the cell phone and extended her hand, palm up, obviously requesting the phone. When the young man stood, slack-jawed, unmoving, Clarice reached across, gripped the phone within his hand and ripped it from his hold.

"Hey, what're you doing? Give me back my phone!"

Pointing a finger in his face she warned, "Back off, you little shit!"

Turning her attention to the recording, she accessed the file, deleted the video and flipped the phone back to the visibly upset owner. She then approached the guard and mocked the employee just loud enough for Hannibal and the young man to hear, but no one else.

"Just because your dick is too small to get job done doesn't mean I'm gonna let you compensate at my husband's expense you pathetic little fuck."

Hannibal, busy securing his son within the carrier, urged, "Clarice…_please_…"

"No, H! What the hell? You were just gonna let this little shit manhandle you? He was so far up your ass, I swear he was a minute away from giving you a prostate exam!"

The baby now secured, Hannibal pursued the situation, "That is entirely enough, Clarice."

"It was entirely enough the minute he_ touched_ you, H."

Hannibal wanted nothing more than to get out of that situation and his wife's indignant response, though well intended, delayed the process. He bent to her ear and whispered, "Though I understand your aim was to defend me and as such, your intention was admirable, the methods leave much to be desired. Know that I will not entertain such conversations in public, Clarice. When we return home, we will discuss the situation, but not before that time."

"You're _not_ my _father_, H. Who the hell are _you_ to decide _when_ we'll discuss this."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed as he spoke in a low, almost threatening tone, "There is a limit to my patience, Clarice. I have done everything asked of me and more, but I have reached my end. Let me be exceedingly clear. Push me no further, my Love."

Although everything within her, down to her very core, told her not to respond, Clarice, full of anger at how her husband had been treated, misplaced her wrath and redirected it at Hannibal.

"_Or you'll do what?"_ she growled.

Hannibal's eyes locked on Clarice for a just the briefest moment, considering a response. He blinked once, his eyes fluttering closed for a split second, opening more intense than before. Hannibal swallowed hard, choking on the rage within, causing his shoulders to shudder for a moment. It was the only visible signal of his frustration as he focused his attention to reining in his temper.

"After you, Clarice."

He walked beside his wife resting his hand on the small of her back, forcing her forward. This was normally an attentive, loving gesture, but at this particular moment, it was merely meant to guide her away from the crowd. Hannibal leaned in close to his wife as they walked to be certain his words would not be overheard.

"We are now in a _very_ public place and as such, I will not dignify that with a response. Instead, I shall hold my tongue and will address this when we are once again, alone."

Clarice, upset though her anger now had no focus, responded, "That suits me, _just fine_."

The remainder of the afternoon saw a very quiet Hannibal Lecter carrying his son throughout the park. Clarice, now sufficiently calmed and feeling badly for taking her anger out on Hannibal, attempted to be pleasant but to no avail. He had been publicly embarrassed, not only by the activity of the guard, but even more so by her behavior. Several times she reached for his hand and though he didn't refuse, his grip was now loose. Normally, he would occasionally lift her hand and kiss it, or as he had earlier, stroke his thumb along her hand as he held hers. This grip seemed obligatory at best.

* * *

><p>Though they were, for the most part, silent the rest of the day, Clarice found the nerve to question him as they began the drive home.<p>

"H?"

"Yes, Clarice?"

"Are you angry at me?"

"I believe I was quite clear, Clarice. I will not entertain this discussion."

"Will you talk to me about it when we get home?"

"No. I am in no condition to discuss this. I will enter just long enough to escort you inside and put the child in his crib. When I am certain you are both safe and secure within the home, I will be returning to the car."

"H…please."

"Enough, Clarice. Please, leave me be."

Arriving home, Hannibal parked the car, walked to the passenger side and opened the door for his wife. He then took their son out of the car seat and escorted them into the home.

Hannibal ascended the stairs quickly with his son sound asleep in his arms. He quickly changed the baby's diaper and placed him in the crib.

Clarice waited for him in the foyer, hoping to convince him to stay. Pacing as he approached, she blocked his egress. Heading for the door she put a hand on his chest, smoothing it to comfort him.

""H? I love you, H…please…let's talk. I know you love me...please, don't leave me like this."

"It is because I love you that I will not stay. I am not of sound enough mind to have this discussion, Clarice."

Clarice swallowed hard. "I want you to stay, but I'm not going to _beg_ you, H."

"I don't require that you do so, Clarice. Please, allow me to pass. I need to leave. Now."

Clarice stepped to the side, brushing her fingertips along the length of his arm as he passed. She wanted her scent fresh on his body.

"Come back to me soon, H…I'll be waiting."

His hand on the door handle, without turning, Hannibal spoke, "Don't wait up, Clarice. It may be a long night."

Running to him, Clarice wrapped her arms around her husband and rested her head on his chest. Hannibal bowed slightly, resting his cheek on top of her head. He paused a moment, breathing deeply as he drew in her scent. He took hold of her arms and separated from her. Their eyes met for a moment, hers pleading, his restless and anxious.

Seeing he needed space, Clarice let him go.

"I understand, H. You take the time you need and when you're ready, you come home to me. Then we can worry about the rest."

Hannibal slipped a hand along her neck, just within the curtain of her hair. He stroked his thumb along her cheek for a moment, his eyes searching hers.

Hannibal released her and turned toward the door.

Clarice, urgency in her voice, called after him, "H?"

Hannibal opened the outer door, paused and spoke only two words.

"Goodbye, Clarice."

The door closed, and he was gone.

**Until the next chapter my Friends!**

**LH**


	141. Chapter 141

**THE ASSAULT**

Hannibal drove.

An hour or more passed and though he had no particular destination in mind, he knew himself well enough to realize the last thing he needed was talk. Too much within his own mind, what he needed was space. If he were in Argentina, he would wander the acres of his property until his mind calmed.

It was now approaching late afternoon. They left the zoo earlier than Clarice might have liked as she wanted to spend the entire day, but Hannibal argued that lengthy a visit was impractical for a child who was far too young to even participate, much less enjoy the outing. He didn't relish the thought of a public breast feeding either.

All of the windows lowered in the Bentley, Hannibal allowed the humid late Spring breeze to whip around his face, swirling throughout the vehicle even as the anger spun within his mind. The air along the Chesapeake Bay was heavy. Two massive fronts about to collide created a level of humidity that made every breath burdensome, each inhalation having to be dragged into his body.

_The tide is coming in…it must be approaching four o'clock._

It had been quite some time since last he felt this level of rage. This bubbling, simmering fury, this raging frenzy that churned within his mind. The feelings agitating his thoughts, he remembered a similar flood of emotion that came upon him the night he killed the panther. Still new in their love, Clarice didn't understand. Still, now, he struggled to make himself known to her. They came together several times that following morning. It was then they created their child.

_You fire my heart and stir my soul, but you cannot calm my mind…Clarice…_

Knowing the Bentley would attract unwanted attention, he drove to Washington. There he could walk freely and blend in with the crowds and the car wouldn't stand out as much. He parked the vehicle in a secure lot and prepared to set out on foot.

He needed to walk in order to clear his mind and decided the National Mall would be ideal. The two-mile stretch had a variety of sights to distract or, perhaps, he could walk by the reflecting pool and calm himself.

_No matter. _

What he really wanted to do was to find the insolent waif from the zoo and listen to his screams, but that wouldn't be practical. Too many people had seen the exchange. If true, that revenge is a dish best served cold, he would be forced to wait quite some time before revisiting that situation. No, that was entirely out of the question. The insult from the ignorant youth wasn't worth jeopardizing the future of his son.

_Anger is upon me, Clarice. I am worth nothing to you lest I vent this madness._

For now, he would need to stay away from his wife long enough for his mind to settle. Too many doors of his memory palace were ajar. He needed to still himself in order to close them all. He was in no state to be Husband or Father.

_Patience, my Love…patience…there are times I drag the chain behind me and times when it drags me. Perhaps, with your help, I will someday rid myself of it but for now, I must take hold before it catches, and drags you along with it._

Hannibal exited his car and walked from the parking structure, he could see two men tagging along within his periphery, shadowing his movements.

_Ah…you've seen the car…you'll assume I might be an easy mark with a full wallet. One of those assumptions is correct. Come along if you must. Your intention may be dubious, but it may suit my needs as well._

Hannibal walked for a time, leading the men around as he assessed his circumstances. He found himself in front of the merry-go-round, watching it spin.

_I dared to reach out to touch your hair…my Love… _

There was a man with a camera filming his wife and child on the carousel. Seeing the man lower the device, Hannibal saw opportunity sought to make an immediately connection.

"Shall I assume your daughter to be the red haired beauty?"

The man smiled and responded, "Yes, she's my precious little lady."

"She has chosen to ride the dragon, forgoing the painted horses. She is brave and adventurous, I take it?"

"She's a fearless little girl. Sometimes maybe more than she should be. It gets her in trouble a lot."

"My wife has similar hair and a similar nature. Your daughter reminds me of my Clarice. She will, no doubt, grow to an exceptional woman. Your wife is a vision, as well. You are a lucky man."

"_Clarice?"_ As he turned to face Hannibal, the man's eyes lit with recognition.

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter…it's kind of you to say. If you'll allow me to return the compliment, you have a lovely family as well. Your wife's very dedicated to you and your son is a handsome little baby. You're equally fortunate."

Hannibal, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he rocked on his heels, proudly nodded.

"Thank you…yes. Yes, I am."

"Are you here with your family, Sir?"

"No, I've come to the city alone this afternoon. I had some pressing business to attend therefore my wife is at home with my son. The business completed, I'll be returning to my family now. You'll please excuse me for interrupting your outing. A storm approaches, so you'll need to leave the area soon, I expect. I'll allow you to return to your family as well. My very best to you all."

"My best to your family, too, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal turned, knowing the man would not miss the chance to point him out to his wife.

As Hannibal moved away, turning toward an area that was sparsely populated but still in view of the man and his family, he coaxed the hoodlums in by separating from the crowd.

Seizing the opportunity to get to Hannibal, the men quickly approached from behind. Their sudden movements attracted the attention of the man who was indeed pointing Hannibal out to his wife. Seeing Hannibal raise his arms over his head signaling a robbery, the man turned the camera to the altercation, certain a crime was occurring. He directed his wife to find a police officer.

Hannibal breathed deeply as he began to assess his situation.

_Not concerned with stealth? You might have waited a bit longer…_

A crack of lightening illuminated the sky. Hannibal looked upward, counting the seconds to the sound.

_Two…three…four…_

The thunder rolled.

_Time yet, but not long._

One of the men, the larger of the two, barked orders into Hannibal's ear.

"There's a knife at your back. If you reach for your wallet and hand it back to us, we'll just walk away and you won't go home with an extra hole or two in your body. You fuck with me, and I'll use this knife to ventilate your ass."

Speaking calmly, Hannibal warned in return, "May I make a counter-offer? If you walk away, I _may_ let you _live."_

Unfazed, as he had no idea with whom he was dealing, the hoodlum continued, "Fuck you, Old Man just give us your damned wallet!"

_Old man? We shall see…_

The instability of the weather confounding his ability to accurately judge distance by scent, in order to determine a plan of attack, Hannibal needed to hear the second man's voice to judge the distance.

_How easily do you anger, my friend? Can I bait you into revealing yourself?_

Challenging his manhood to coax a response, he taunted, "One man dares to speak while the other cowers? Perhaps there is a eunuch in my presence? Do you fear one old man so much that you will allow your partner to make threats on your behalf?"

Taking the bait, the second man shouted, "Screw you Old Man! Just give us your fucking wallet!"

_The second man is located perhaps two or three steps beyond his counterpart just over my right shoulder. If I can locate the hand with the weapon and disarm the first, I could focus my attention on the second man and would stand a good chance of overcoming both. Not without absorbing some damage, but it is possible. They'll not get my wallet in any event._

Hannibal needed to know what hand held the knife. Again he taunted, provoking the man holding the weapon.

"It is true, my wallet is quite full therefore I would need good reason to part with it. I have no way of knowing if you actually possess a weapon or if you are relying on my fear, but as I have no fear, perhaps proof can be offered…a show of good faith, as it were."

"_What? _What the fuck?"

Hearing the man's confusion and seeing opportunity, Hannibal spun quickly to face the man, his eyes darting to assess his circumstances.

The closest man held a knife in his right hand while the second man appeared unarmed.

Hannibal prepared.

"One knife, two men? You will find yourselves at quite a disadvantage. I will keep my wallet, I think."

The closer man recognized, "Hannibal Lecter? I hear you're crazy with that knife of yours."

"Yes, so I'm told, though at this moment I am unarmed, so to speak."

The second man joined, "You're real fucking rich, aren't you?"

Hannibal lowered his head and smiled slyly. "Yes, and I intend to keep it that way."

Gesturing with the point of the knife, the larger man questioned, "How much money you got on you now?"

"Twelve hundred, more perhaps."

The smaller man asserted, "Give it!"

Another lightening strike followed closely behind by the immediate roll of thunder.

_Any moment now…let us get this over with…_

Lowering his head, Hannibal prepared for the attack he understood was about to commence.

"You want it? Come…get it."

The man with the knife squared off with Hannibal, brandishing the weapon.

Hannibal stood very still with both his arms bent at the elbow, his hands in front of his face. He peered through the two-inch opening created by his nearly touching palms, waiting for the man to make the first move.

_Come now, my friends…the camera is rolling, as is the thunder. We haven't long and I have need of this…_

The would-be mugger lunged with his right arm, attempting to stab Hannibal's abdomen.

Turning his body away from the blow, Hannibal blocked the lunge with his left forearm, reached across the attacker's limb, and grabbed the outside of the arm at the man's right elbow. Using the leverage of the man's own arm, Hannibal secured his foe's wrist by trapping it within the bend of his left arm. He locked out the elbow and now fully controlled the man's body trapping the arm at the wrist and shoulder.

Hannibal cranked the now hyper-extended appendage, breaking it with one savage pull.

The clouds burst open as the man screamed. Hannibal dropped him to the ground, enjoying the howls of pain as sheets of rain began to fall.

Careful not to appear overtly aggressive, Hannibal held his arms up in surrender as he faced the remaining man.

"You have no weapon and now, you know of what I am capable. You would be better off running as I will disable you in any way I can. I have a wife and son and will not leave this life by your hand. The same, I am afraid, cannot be said for you if you continue this assault."

"Fuck you!"

The man the good doctor had spoken to earlier, not twenty feet from the action began to frantically wrap a plastic poncho around his equipment as he continued to roll the camera. He was capturing every moment of the activity, as Hannibal had planned all along.

_Thank you, my friend…you have come to my aid as I hoped you would._

The second attacker charged Hannibal, driving his shoulder into the older man's body, taking him to the ground. Sliding backward across the now wet grass, Hannibal attempted to scramble to his feet, rolling away from the larger man to put some distance between them. Before he could escape, the man grabbed Hannibal's left ankle and pulled him in, dragging him through the mud. Pinning Hannibal, the man cocked his arm, preparing to punch.

Bracing himself for the blow, Hannibal rolled his head to the side, hoping to lessen the concussion by the man's right cross. Rising up, the attacker rained punches down, the blows crashing repeatedly against Hannibal's face, causing his head to recurrently bounce against the ground, splashing muddy water in sprays around them.

As he absorbed the full force of the attack he covertly sought to better his position. Hannibal braced his legs and the moment the man leaned forward, took advantage of the misplaced body weight by driving his hips upward, flipping the man forward.

As the attacker's body shifted, sweeping his leg, Hannibal turned his body over and achieved the dominant position. Now straddling his attacker, though bloody and battered, Hannibal began driving his fists repeatedly into the man's face. Almost immediately the bridge of the man's nose gave way, blood spurting from the impact. The remaining punches forced the teeth from the man's jaw.

Initially, the man's arms flailed attempting to block the punches. By the fifth or sixth blow, the man was unconscious, though Hannibal, no longer in full control, continued to pummel the man's face and body, his own hands now cut by the jagged bits of teeth that still remained within the man's mouth.

The first attacker, seeing his family member being so savagely maimed, attempted to intervene, though the arm Hannibal broke dangled at his side, useless.

"Hey, Lecter! Lecter! My brother got no more fight in him so if you want some more you come and see me about it… Come on…I can beat you with one arm tied behind my back so this won't be no trouble."

Having been momentarily cataleptic, the sound of the first man's voice snapped Hannibal awake. He looked up from the unconscious man, almost confused, then turned to find the first thug holding the recovered knife in his left hand.

Climbing over the now fully unconscious man, Hannibal pushed off on the prone mugger's chest, forcing a harsh involuntary exhalation of stale air and bloody spit.

Hannibal stood, face bleeding, his left eye partially closed from the punches he absorbed. As the rain teemed down the planes of his face, pouring from his chin and the tip of his nose, Hannibal Lecter growled, "That weapon will not help you."

"It ain't gonna help you none. Sure won't feel too good stickin' outta your ribs neither."

Hannibal stood, chest heaving more from the adrenalin coursing through his system than the effort and with his bloodied fists clenched at his side as he assured, "My earlier invitation stands. I will not attack, but rest assured, I will defend myself in whatever way I must to assure I return to my wife and son."

Normally, the thief would have run off by now, but this partner was not an acquaintance; he was family and was incapacitated. He'd have to attempt to wake him if they had any chance of escaping before the police arrived. The mugger, in pain and obviously overmatched understood he and his brother were running out of time. It was becoming increasingly obvious that not only was the wallet no longer within reach; they'd be lucky to escape arrest.

The ruffian began to circle to the right, in an effort to move Hannibal away from his brother.

Hannibal watched every twitch of the man's muscles, every shift of his body language. He surveyed the man's sightline and the dilation of the pupils. Hannibal stepped one foot carefully over the other, feeling at the ground before fully shifting his weight to each step, knowing the deluge compromised his footing.

When the attacker reached his brother he bent over careful to keep eyes on Hannibal, and kicked at the man's body in an attempt to rouse him to consciousness.

"Hey…hey…get up…get up man…"

The bloodied man didn't move, though his chest rose and fell making it obvious he was merely unconscious, not dead.

The gangster with the knife then faced Hannibal.

"If he's in a coma..I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"Would you like me to administer first aid? I _am_ a doctor."

"Fuck you!"

The man attacked, with his arm flapping behind him like a broken wing. He steamrolled Hannibal and as the pair collided, the doctor crossed his wrists to block the knife. The assailant attempted to drive the blade downward into Hannibal's chest. The rain making his grip slippery, he was only able to partially block the knife.

The blade tore into Hannibal's forearm, ripping at the flesh. Ignoring both the pain and the blood pouring down his arm, gripping the wrist still holding the blade, Hannibal dropped onto the ground and pulled the aggressor down as he planted his right foot onto the man's chest, cartwheeling him over and slamming him on his back.

Scrambling across the ground, slipping and sliding in the mud, Hannibal crawled over his assailant, planted his knees on the man's sternum to take control of the knife. He lofted the blade, holding it in both fists as he prepared to drive it into the man's chest.

D.C. Police now surrounded the scene. Hannibal could hear the swish of weapons clearing holsters.

"Buddy, Drop the knife and step away from the victim."

The man with the camera, still rolling, interceded.

"No…you've got it wrong…he's the victim…he's the victim."

His chest heaving from the exertion, the knife shaking in his hands, he held it aloft with his eyes on the aggressor's chest, intending to pierce the man's heart. Predator was now fully in control and Hannibal's body was quaking with the effort to stay his own hand.

The officer was unconvinced.

"Doesn't matter if he's the victim or not, he's the one with the knife and since I'm here, he isn't in danger anymore so, he doesn't get to just kill the guy."

The policeman turned his attention to Hannibal, "Hey, Buddy! Put down the knife!"

Again, the man with the camera interjected, "Don't call him Buddy. That's Hannibal Lecter and they beat him pretty senseless. Maybe if you call him by his name…maybe then he might hear you. He got punched in the head an awful lot so he might be a little loopy still. They got a lot of punches in before he turned the tables on them."

The officer turned toward the man with the camera. "_Hannibal Lecter?_ Are you _sure_? Holy shit…_who's dumb enough to attack Hannibal Lecter?"_

The father with the camera returned, "Those two idiots. They knew who he was…he warned them. He told them to leave him alone! They wouldn't listen. They tried to rob him. It's him…It's definitely him. I know. We had a conversation just before they jumped him. He was just trying to get home to his family and they attacked. They meant to rob him."

"Holy shit. Okay…I can handle it…holy shit."

The cop holstered his weapon and very slowly approached with his arms stretched out to show he was unarmed. He circled very gingerly until he was in full view of Hannibal. He leaned over and spoke very quietly.

"Doctor Lecter…I'm sorry this happened to you, but we've got this under control now, so you can you put down the knife and step away the perpetrator so we can get some handcuffs on them and some medical attention for you. You look a bit banged up and your arm has a good sized gash in it."

Holding the blade, Hannibal's eyes flashed to the officer. The man gasped the moment he and Hannibal made eye contact, the glow from within Hannibal's eyes catching him off-guard. Seeing the shock in the man's face, Hannibal looked away and lowered the weapon. He held the knife in his hand, palm up and open, offering the weapon to the officer.

The policeman moved slowly and very carefully secured the knife. He then offered a hand and helped Hannibal to his feet.

"We'll call your wife and get you to the hospital, Doctor. You'll need some stitches."

Hannibal surveyed his arm and shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm fine. I can take treat this injury myself."

The officer pointed to the camera. "No need for you to make a statement. The entire attack was caught on camera. If you could stop by and sign the paperwork tomorrow, that'd be good enough."

Hannibal nodded. "Yes…I'll do that. Thank you, Officer."

Walking up to his acquaintance with the camera, Hannibal extended his hand, still shaking from the adrenalin surging throughout his system.

The man took his hand and immediately apologized, "I should have stepped in…I'm sorry, Doctor."

"No. You should not have stepped in, my friend. You have a young family as well and might have been killed. I thank you for your intervention on my behalf. Without photographic evidence and your willingness to speak on my behalf, this may have gone very differently. I have not always had the best experience when it comes to law enforcement. Based on the dominant position I was able to achieve and my history they would have inaccurately identified me as the attacker."

Shaking Hannibal's hand, the concerned man questioned, "Are you sure you're okay, Doctor? You don't live far from me…I could drive you home or maybe call your wife?"

"No…thank you. My car isn't far. I'll be fine."

The man held out the camera.

"I got it all on film and figured you'd like the tape. Maybe you can use it as evidence. Plenty of people would pay a lot of money for it…the news and such. You could get another donation for that orphanage you support."

Hannibal waved a hand, signaling his polite refusal.

"No. Please, feel free to sell it to the highest bidder, my friend. You may consider it my donation to your daughter's college fund. For now, I'll return to my wife, though I'll need to clean up a bit before I will be presentable. It seems I am a bit worse for the wear."

"Well, you look a damned sight better than they do, Doctor Lecter. Allow me to say that the whole thing was pretty impressive. I have to say...pretty damned impressive. I'm happy to have met you."

"I'm happy to have met you as well."

Invigorated by the altercation, Hannibal walked briskly back to his car, his adrenalin pumping, his pulse throbbing in his ears. Having successfully taking his frustrations out on the attackers, he was energized. He was ready to go home.

* * *

><p>Hannibal drove to his home and parked outside, sitting very still as he took inventory of his body's reaction. He sat in the vehicle for several minutes, breathing deeply, closing the doors within his mind as he prepared to join his family.<p>

It was quite late, and by the look of the lights, Clarice was already upstairs, asleep. Hannibal entered the home silently and moved up the staircase. He went to the hallway linen closet and retrieved his medical kit and a bottle of sterile water.

Entering his bedroom, he listened to the pattern of his wife's breathing and determined she was sleeping. Hannibal's nostrils flared.

_Devyni?_

Hannibal turned to see that Clarice had moved the baby from his crib to the cradle in their bedroom.

_You didn't expect me home and wanted to keep your child close. My brave Clarice…_

Hannibal carried the supplies to the bathroom, showered quickly and flushed the knife wound. He then used a series of butterfly closures to seal the injury. A bandage would too obviously signal a problem. He decided an ace bandage could be used to cover the gauze. He quickly wrapped the elastic support over the surgical dressing.

Looking in the mirror, Hannibal assessed the physical damage. It was superficial, but fairly extensive. He would be able to hide the harm from his wife tonight in the dark, but tomorrow in the light of day it would be another matter entirely. His eye was very swollen and would most certainly blacken. There were cuts on his face and his knuckles were bloodied and raw. The bruises would be quite imposing.

_Clarice will not be pleased…_

Putting on his robe, he could hear his son beginning to stir. Hannibal lifted the baby from the cradle and nuzzling his nose along the boy's cheek inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of his child. This familiar aroma, now a comfort, calmed him.

Becoming Father, Hannibal whispered to his son, "Are you hungry, Little One? Let us bring you to your mother. She will nourish us both. You at her breast and me in her arms."

Hannibal carried the baby to his sleeping wife. He spoke very gently so as not to startle her.

"Clarice, wake up…Clarice…young Hannibal is hungry. Your son needs you."

Clarice rolled over. Though she couldn't see him, in the low light, Hannibal's vision was quite clear. He could see her eyes were swollen.

_You have been crying? Forgive me, my Love… _

Shocked to hear his voice, Clarice questioned, "H? H? _You're back?"_

"It's my job to bring the baby to you, Clarice. I will never shirk my responsibility to either of you. He's hungry and I am not capable of tending to that need."

Hannibal placed the baby in her arms very carefully shielding his wounds from his wife's view. It being white, she noticed the bathrobe.

Offering her breast to their son she questioned her husband, "You showered?"

Hannibal took several steps backward, careful to keep his wounds out of view.

"Yes, I was caught in the storm. I was careful not to wake you."

Turning her attention to their son, Clarice relaxed slightly. Hannibal had, after all, come home. "Thanks…that was sweet. Can we talk, H?"

Still not emotionally up to the effort of a long conversation, Hannibal stated simply, "Clarice…feed the child."

"Okay, H…I'm not going to push you. Take your time and when you're ready to talk about it you come to me, okay? I won't ask you again."

"Yes, I will, my Love, but not tonight."

"You okay?"

"Now that I am home…yes…I am."

Hannibal sat beside her on the edge of the bed as she cuddled with their son, careful to keep his back to her as she nursed. Several minutes later, Hannibal could hear the baby's breathing alter slightly and the suckling noises halt.

"Has the boy finished nursing?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping now."

"Shall I return him to his crib or would you like to hold him as we sleep."

"I'd rather _be _held right now, H, but I don't know how you feel about that."

Hannibal paused.

"Never mind, H. I know I've been forcing a lot on you. Like I said, whenever you're ready. I'm just thankful you came home tonight. I wasn't sure when you'd be back."

Without speaking, Hannibal took his sleeping son from his wife's arms and walked toward the door. He turned in the doorway, faced Clarice and spoke quietly.

"Permit me a moment, Clarice and I shall place our son in his crib and return to you. While I have no desire to talk, at this moment, I want nothing more than to hold you...if you'll allow."

"Of course, I'll allow it. Hurry back to me, H. Hurry back..."


	142. Chapter 142

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**We are very close to the end with not more than a couple of chapters to go! I want to thank my dearest friends who have continued to read and review with such regularity. A mighty effort considering the length of this fic! I am truly humbled. LH**

**IN THE DARK**

Hannibal entered the bedroom as quietly as possible in the event his wife had fallen asleep. He debated with himself whether or not he might have preferred to find her sleeping. Though her body was healed and together they were looking forward to once more consummating their union, his body was now battered, sore and still feeling the aftereffects of the adrenalin coursing through his system.

Due to the storm, the room was pitch black giving Hannibal the advantage of disguise. Clarice, hearing her hsuband open the door and enter the room, reflexively reached for the lamp on the bedside table.

"No, my Love. I would prefer the room remain darkened."

His tone had been far more abrupt than intended, but the words were spoken, it was too late to correct and Hannibal was a man who didn't waste time with regret.

Both the curtness and the comment puzzled Clarice, but thankful Hannibal had come home at all, she deferred to his wishes without complaint. This confusion slowly began to plague her thoughts, furthering her hormonal insecurities. Immediately assuming that because her body had undergone so many changes, he might not want to look at her, that perhaps she might not be as pleasing to him since the birth, she sadly conceded.

_Making love in the dark… it's just not like him. _

Squinting, she could barely make out his figure in the room so there was no way for her to know he was attempting to hide the severity of his injuries until morning when the light of day would reveal the damage and he would have no choice but to explain.

Hannibal could all but hear her thoughts churning and though he knew his hasty reaction had ignited suspicion, he believed she would assent. It seemed too small a point to argue and though Clarice never shirked from a fight, she was smart enough to know when to pick her battles. This was one, Hannibal was certain, she would decline.

_You know me so well you are confused as you no doubt you realize I prefer to look at you when we make love. You rightly recognize my actions are incongruent to my nature and though it pains me to plant this seed of doubt, if I've behaved all night as if I have no physical limitations, by the time the injuries are revealed you will realize I am fine. Though tomorrow the sight may shock, it will not worry you for long._

The room was very dark, the expected illumination from the stars and moon having been blocked by a dense quilt of clouds. As the thunderstorm raged outside and the sheets of rain beat against the windows, Clarice's mood darkened as well.

Suddenly, the home phone rang. Clarice rolled over and reached for it.

Hannibal held his breath. Not nervous, but anticipating the thought that one of the friends had seen the news coverage of the event. He approached the bed and stood over his wife.

_This may get interesting…_

As Clarice lifted the phone, Hannibal's eyes shifted quickly looking at the display and seeing _Ardelia Mapp_ clearly illuminated, he commented, "Perhaps this isn't the most fortuitous time to take a call, my Love."

Clarice checked the display as well.

"It's Dee, she's probably just checking in. I'll call her later."

Setting the phone on the cradle, Clarice ignored the call.

Almost disappointed the chaos of the event had been avoided, Hannibal agreed.

"That would be best, my Love."

Baffled by his behavior, and more than a little disoriented by her inability to see him as he walked around the bed, she followed the sound of her husband's voice, hers stained with worry.

Hannibal removed his robe and climbed into bed, careful of his injuries as he nestled comfortably against her body, covering them both with the silk sheets.

Propping himself up on his right elbow, he smoothed his left hand over her body, continuing down the gentle slope of her waist.

"Your skin is so soft, Clarice…so soft."

Inclining his head enough to bite her deltoid muscle, he continued to reach touching her skin very lightly, his hand riding the sensual bow of her hip. Hannibal graced himself to pause for the briefest moment, allowing the pleasure of her pulse tapping gently at his fingertip. Smoothing his hand over her external oblique, he let his palm rest on her abdomen and lightly stroked his fingers over the gentle curve of her still slightly rounded belly.

Unable to see him, or perhaps because she could not, Clarice needed him close. Reaching back, feeling along his body she gripped his thigh and tugged him to her as closely as she could manage, going as far as to scoot her hips backward to press tightly against his body.

There was a long silence between them Hannibal felt no need to fill. He was far too interested in the gently slopes and curves of her body and the scent evolving as she responded to his touch.

Though she was enjoying his attention, she was slightly preoccupied considering the reason for her husband's inconsistent behavior. Scenarios tumbled in her mind and when she believed she had touched on a possibility, she addressed it tentatively, as if afraid the speaking of it would make this thought, a truth.

"H? No lights? Not even one?"

_It's not like you…what's going on?_

"I'd prefer not, Clarice. Is that a problem?"

_I hear your worry…forgive me…_

"No, but, you always want the lights on when we…unless…you…don't…"

His voice tired and raspy from the evening's exertion he whispered, "Unless what, my Love?"

"Unless…unless you don't want to make love with me. I wouldn't like it, but I'd understand. I've been a royal pain in the ass lately. I doubt that's much of a turn-on."

Hannibal let his chin rest just over his wife's left shoulder.

"Clarice, face me."

Spinning within his embrace, she placed her hands on his chest.

"It's too dark, I can't see you, H…"

"You don't need to see me, my Love. You know I'm here."

Kissing his chest, she rested her cheek on his breastbone, comforted by the beat of his heart. She listened to the tree tapping on the glass, its limbs being whipped by the storm, the mood of the weather, uneasy as her own.

Seeking to ease her mind, knowing she could perceive a change in the rhythm of his heart as she slept in this fashion every night, Hannibal allowed his body to respond to hers making no effort to slow the quickening as he touched her body.

"Listen to my heart, Clarice. Mind, body and soul, you move me like no other."

Feeling the organ beating soundly against her cheek, Clarice was moved. Though she wasn't normally given to bouts of melancholy, the changes to her body's chemistry, her worry over her husband and the mood of the evening itself drove her angst. She put her worry into words, perhaps hoping he might reassure.

"I didn't think you were coming back tonight, H. I wasn't sure you'd be back at all. I wouldn't blame you...I've been pretty freaking unreasonable."

Hannibal tightened the embrace.

"You've just had a baby, Clarice. Your hormones have been unbalanced and as such, you've not been fully yourself. I needed distance today, but not from you."

Uncharacteristically insecure, Clarice pulled at his body melding her frame to his.

"But we've been waiting months for this and you don't even want the lights on? You don't want to look at me."

_It has been far too long for us my Love, yet you need more than my body, don't you? _

Hannibal touched a kiss to her forehead and spoke very gently, "Not because I don't wish to look at your body, Clarice, but because I find it overly enticing. It has been far too long since I've had this level of contact with you. The lights would add a layer of stimulation that I would find difficult to handle. I fear I would be unable to stay my pleasure long enough to satisfy you. Please, allow me this."

Though still unsure, Clarice acquiesced, "Okay, H…if it makes you feel better."

"Infinitely, my Love."

A buzzing sound on the nightstand again sent Clarice reaching, this time for her cell phone.

"It's Dee again…Jesus…"

Clarice checked the text message. It said simply:

_Saw the news coverage is everything okay with Hannibal? Logan and I are worried._

Clarice sent a quick text in return:

_He's fine. No worries. I'll call you tomorrow._

Though he could clearly read the message, Hannibal questioned, "What is the problem, Clarice?"

"No problem, H…Dee and Logan were just worrying on the baby. They must have seen something on television about us taking him out for the day. I told her I'd call her in the morning."

Pleased Clarice assumed Ardelia was talking about the baby, Hannibal's body began to relax. Breathing deeply, the scent of her milk still heavy in the air, he bent to her breast and traced the tip of his nose in minute circles around her nipple, the flesh tightening by his touch and the heat of his breath. Though Hannibal initially stopped short of escalating the contact beyond this tender caress, but found the aroma had an intoxicating affect.

Arching her back, Clarice slipped her hand under the curve of her breast and offered, "Go ahead, H...it's fine."

"_Clarice..._"His voice rich with desire he managed only her name before gently latching to her breast.

An airy sigh, just the slightest whisper of a moan, as Clarice simultaneously nourished his body and his soul at her breast.

Needing little more encouragement than the sounds of her enjoyment, Hannibal's body began to respond, a burning deep within the pit of his belly hardening his flesh, causing his heart to soundly thump. Teasing at her breast, he held the nipple gently between his teeth and slowly applied pressure, listening for the response he sought to elicit.

The increasing pressure on her body intense, Clarice gasped.

This sudden uptake of breath was not only anticipated but longed for and caused his breath to catch, his stomach to quiver. The undulating upset caused by his want of her gave Hannibal the immediate and uncontrollable desire to cover her body with his. Aroused, he left her breast and mounted her body, but did not seek yet to penetrate instead enjoying the delicious anticipation of their joining.

Rolling his hips, moving her body with his, Hannibal whispered in her ear, "My, Clarice, how I've missed this."

Settling into the plush featherbed, enjoying the weight of his musculature Clarice responded, "I missed it too, H…I can't tell you how scared I was that I'd never have you again."

Careful to position his body to avoid his injuries and not place too much weight on his wife, Hannibal replied, "Knowing how I feel about you, that statement surprises me, Clarice. That should never be a thought, ever…"

Hannibal's breath was warm, his voice comforting as he spoke very softly in her ear, "Though I may need space from time to time, I will never, ever, leave you, Clarice. While my heart beats, there shall never be a sunrise that does not find you in my arms."

Grateful for the affirmation, Clarice pressed a loving kiss against his cheek. Her voice quavering, rich with emotion as she whispered, "That makes me feel so much better, H. I know I push too hard. I was afraid this time, I'd pushed you away."

"That is not possible, my Love. You would stand a better chance of killing me, than ever pushing me away as it would take my death to separate us."

Finding an angle that suited him, Hannibal settled on her body. Resting on the arm that had not been cut, he gathered her hair. First twisting the locks around his index finger, then, stimulated by the contact, he clutched a fistful and buried his nose along her neck within the tresses. He found the scent of her to be calming, steadying his mind even as it warmed his body. Nuzzling along her neck, he continued to speak his passion as he imagined how it would feel to join with her body once more.

"Never doubt my love for you, Clarice. Never doubt my commitment to you and to our family. You and the boy are all I have. All I have ever had. There is nothing more I need from this world. I have spent my life without a home and thought I was without that need, until I discovered it in your arms."

As if his words engendered heavenly affirmation, a crack of lightening briefly illuminated the room, startling Clarice. She jumped, blinking for a moment, thinking there was something odd, but the flood of light constricted her pupils with such speed that she unable to focus quickly enough to isolate Hannibal's features and discern the cause of her discomfort.

_It's just the lights playing tricks on your mind, Clarice._

"I see worry in your eyes. Have I not set your mind at ease?"

"I wish I could see yours, H…I don't know what to do. Now that we're a family…I just thought…I wanted everything to be perfect."

Though he was listening, Hannibal continued to play with her hair, obsessing over the texture and the scent of it. He tucked his nose between her neck and the drape of curls, kissing the soft skin just behind her ear.

"There is no such thing as a perfect family, my Love. Not to mention, neither one of us is accustomed to the nuances of _any_ kind of family life, much less what has become a very _public_ family life. But, we can discuss this tomorrow. We have waited far too long to come together, Clarice. Let us enjoy this time. Our difficulties can wait."

Clarice patted her hand on his chest to comfort her husband as much as herself.

"I don't want to _have_ difficulties, H…I want things to be peaceful the way they were when we got married."

"We did not live in Baltimore when first we married. That peace will prove problematic here, my Love. There are…complications."

_You're perceptive…begin to make the connection, Clarice._

Clarice toyed with the hair on his chest.

"Because people know who you are?"

_Clarice, you're so very close…_

"Not only because they _know_ who I am…"

_Go on, my Love…you know the answer._

"It's because they _care _who you are, isn't it."

"Yes, Clarice."

Clarice considered his comment. He was right. Here, people wanted to see him. People sought to interact, and not always in the way she would prefer. Here, he was something different, a curiosity, but in Argentina…

_Argentina_…

She tried to put the thought aside, but Hannibal had indirectly, though very purposefully planted it in her mind in order that it might germinate.

Realizing she had come to the answer, Clarice visibly relaxed and arched upward, craning her neck, straining to reach his lips.

"H…kiss me…"

Hannibal enfolded her within his embrace. Tentative, his mouth found hers, testing the sensations, his lips still tender from the assault.

Seeking her mouth gently, he probed with his tongue, tracing it along the separation, careful not to reveal the split in his lower lip. Capturing her bottom lip and tugging, he sucked at the plump flesh as he teased it between his teeth.

"When you kiss me, H, you take my breath away."

"You took my breath away from the first moment I saw you. You are the only woman I've ever _wanted_ to kiss, my Love."

When Hannibal returned to her lips, Clarice parted them slightly, welcoming his attention. Minutes passed as husband and wife explored each other's mouths, a flow slowly developing as they searched, heads rolling rhythmically, tongues probing, caressing one another. Occasionally one would touch the other. The back of a hand brushing along a cheek, a thumb smoothing over a chin, but all the while, their lips remained.

His passion building, Hannibal left his wife's lips, slowly tracing the lightest bites along her throat. He alternately kissed and sucked at her skin, drawing it in his mouth, tugging gently at the flesh with his teeth, marking her body with love bites even as he growled, overtly staking his claim.

All the while, the storm raged on.

The rolling of thunder matched the rumbling of pleasure as Hannibal pursued his Love. The sounds, like the snarl of a predator warning others away. The emotive quality made Clarice tingle with desire, the anticipation of his primal want of her body, an aphrodisiac.

Allowing her lips to leave his, her head to slowly roll back, Clarice closed her eyes and exposed her throat to her husband. The invitation accepted, Hannibal clamped down sucking hard at the surface, literally catching her breath from the pressure his mouth placed on her throat.

As a soft moan escaped his wife's lips, Hannibal's passion surged. His mouth still clamped firmly over her throat as his lips clutched hard. Unable to speak lest he lose his grip on her flesh, Hannibal groaned his pleasure against her body, the vibration of his pleasure, rolling her vocal chords along with her own.

Needing touch, he shifted his hips to the side and began smoothing his hands across the breadth of her chest, floating his fingertips across her collarbone, barely skimming his palms over the peaks of her breast, now taut from the tender caress. Reaching upward, he grasped the caps of her shoulders pulling her tightly to him, forcing her body more firmly against his.

Connected to his wife so viscerally, Hannibal groaned his passion as his mouth seized her flesh once more, this vocal vibration tickling Clarice. She giggled and squirmed against him, shifting her position slightly away from him, unintentionally grasping his injured arm.

Though he was careful not to flinch, he closed his eyes momentarily in order to force the pain aside so as not to alarm Clarice. He was concerned he might have to reveal the physical damage before he was ready to do so.

Feeling the texture of the bandage, she paused.

"H? I can't see it in the dark. What's that on your arm?"

He answered quickly careful to frame the response accurately, but in a way that would not alarm his lover.

"It is an elastic bandage, Clarice. I was injured at the National Mall not far from the carousel. You may see the damage in the morning, but for now I would like to make love, so, please don't distract."

_Damage?_

His attention now shifting to her body, Hannibal smoothed his wide palms over her ribs, turned his hands inward and stroked his fingers over her abdomen.

This particular touch distracted Clarice. Self-conscious, she grabbed his wrist and stayed his hand.

"Come on H, stop…I know I've still got a couple more pounds to lose, but with the breast feeding makes it's tougher than I thought."

"No man has ever desired a woman as much as I desire you, Clarice. Your body is perfect. As for the breastfeeding, that you allow me to benefit, you'll not hear me complain."

Hannibal moved lower still, his lips trailing over her abdomen, his tongue tasting the saltiness of her flesh having been overly warmed by the blanket he continued to push aside. Reached boldly between her thighs, his hand tested her level of arousal, though the richness of her scent had already revealed all to him.

Briefly resting his head on the flank of her hip, bringing the hand to his face, he trailed his fingers beneath his nose and inhaling deeply, breathed in her scent.

Dipping the slickened tips of his fingers within his mouth he closed his lips around each digit, and slowly dragged them forward, one by one, tasting her essence. His thirst for her unquenched by the sample, bending low, he returned to her body, his lips now more directly seeking her flesh.

Hannibal kissed the shapely muscle of her inner thigh, teasing tender bites as he spoke with adoration, "Your body is delicious, Clarice, and your scent rivals the finest perfume."

The shift of his shoulders and his movement lower still, illustrated his intention, but his wife wanted more. The wait had been too long. The emptiness within left her aching for him. She pulled at his shoulders causing him to lift his head, questioning.

"Clarice? I don't understand."

"It's just that, I don't want to wait anymore…please. I need you."

"Yes, but, I want to hear the sounds of your pleasure ringing in my ears, Clarice."

"If my thighs are covering them you won't hear much, will you? Come up here, H. You do right and trust me the Wardens will hear it! I don't need tender and I don't need romantic. I need you that bad, H, please. We can take our time on the next go around. Right now I want it hard and fast."

"The _hard_ I can provide, we shall see about the fast."

Hannibal shifted, lifting his hip to release his firmness, trapped between their bodies.

"Guide me, Clarice…I'm uncertain and don't wish to hurt you."

"I'm not that fragile. You don't have to worry."

"I shall always worry, my Love."

"It's too dark, H…I can't see it…"

Hannibal laughed at the comment, "It isn't detachable, Clarice."

"Don't be such a wise ass, H…I'm just nervous that's all."

"Allow me, my Love."

Feeling the goose bumps rise as he trailed his fingertips along the length of her arm, he reached her hand and lifted it gently, moving it lower. Slipping his thumb along the inside of her wrist he rolled it within her palm, opening her hand.

"_H…_"

Placing her hand firmly around his phallus, Hannibal slowly closed her fingers.

"I place myself in your able hand, my Love."

Clarice very gently directed his body just to the entrance of hers. Feeling the heat, sensing the cleft, Hannibal rotated his hips and very slowly began to press himself within. He whispered in her ear, his breath warm as he spoke, "Move with me, my Love."

Rocking her hips to meet his body, gripping her husband's shoulders as his firm flesh extended within her, Clarice released a sensual sigh reacting as her body opened to him.

"Oh, god…H…H."

As her muscles stretched to welcome his body, both partners exhaled very slowly, as if the release of their combined breaths purged the months of waiting, the months of wanting.

The sensations too intense, Hannibal paused. Holding his body mid-way within hers, he reached to the base of his arousal and gripped himself, restraining his desire.

Clarice, having been as patient as she could be to this point, hooked her ankles around his body and using the strength of her thighs to pull him close, pressed his body fully within her own.

Dropping his chin to his chest, Hannibal drew in several quick breaths, attempting to both control the pain, and restrain his passion. His shoulders shook as his body both stayed his release, and moved within.

Biting on his lip he could taste his blood as the cut began to separate once more. The gash on his forearm pulsing from the pressure of supporting his body, Hannibal shifted his weight to the other arm, breathing deeply to quell the pain.

"Clarice…Allow a moment."

A whimper of frustration, Clarice confused his hesitation with playful torment.

"H…it's been months…please…don't tease me."

"Trust me, Clarice…I'm not teasing you. It is simply that if I move too rapidly, it will end too rapidly."

"Okay…okay."

After a minute of controlled breathing, Hannibal pressed his body fully within, the warmth inviting, the pressure on his girth far more than he expected considering his wife not long ago given birth.

"Are you comfortable, Clarice?"

"Yeah, I'm good, H…you?"

"Perfect…you're perfect."

Hannibal stroked his length within Clarice, very slowly at first, occasionally rolling his hips to increase the friction and enhance the pleasure for them both. Now fully aroused, his size, as he pressed forward, caused his wife to gasp.

Overwhelmed by her own want, Clarice gripped Hannibal's face within her hands, meeting his body repeatedly by driving her hips upward.

"Oh…H…that's so good…"

Groaning both from the pressure her hands on his enflamed face and the intense pleasure of her body closing around his, his passion combined with the searing pain behind his swollen eye encouraged Hannibal's speed. His wife's body irresistible, he quickly began to force his hips downward repeatedly, his body now slapping against hers as he shifted his mind from the intense pain to a similarly intense pleasure.

"Clarice…my Clarice…oh…my…Love…"

Hannibal spoke his adoration with each thrust of his body within hers. As he clutched at her bottom, his strong hands driving his fingers into her flesh, grasping, and clutching her close. He balanced on the edges of pleasure and pain, dizzy from this overwhelming clash of sensations. Hannibal breathed deeply, the scent of her milk, mixing with the amalgam of their combined lust overwhelming his senses.

This concerted rush of emotion and intense passion so extreme, Hannibal's legendary self-control collapsed. Forcing his fingers between the mattress and the headboard, Hannibal tugged at the bed's foundation, bending the support to his will.

Sex with Clarice was normally far more romantic, more loving. The pain from his injuries were coloring this exchange, it much more raw and intense than any of their previous couplings.

Biting hard on the muscles of her neck, Hannibal's past hedonistic and slightly sado-masochistic tendencies were beginning to bleed through. His hips now bucking, driving into her body, he clawed at the flesh on her back, raising thin tracks of projecting flesh.

"Oh, god...Hannibal...oh...god"

Hannibal, wanting his end, needed to more directly stimulate his wife. He reached between her legs, slipping his fingers within the fold, manually coaxing her pleasure by teasing the digits forward, sliding them continually within the cleft, stroking the slick tissues to encourage her end.

The collision of several intense bolts of lightning brightly illuminated the room. Hannibal could clearly see his wife's features, her eyes crushed closed as the raptured evolved. Knowing by her breathing and the look on her face, Hannibal understood Clarice's end was near.

"Come, my Love…give yourself to me…"

Clarice let go of Hannibal's body and allowed her own to stretch out across the bed, grasping at fists full of the sheets, twisting the fabric within her grip as she writhed beneath him.

Seeing her walk the tightrope of her own rapture, Hannibal sought the slightest addition, wanting to watch her orgasm evolve.

Taking her breast in his mouth while quickening the rhythm of his fingers over her flesh as his body now driving within almost violently entered hers, Hannibal could feel the changes.

Clarice clutched for his body, biting his shoulder, the taste of blood in her mouth as her incisor nicked his flesh.

Her body tensing, every muscle seizing, as the relentless throes of orgasm began to rock her frame.

"H…H…oh…God…H…H…"

Clarice's body began to shake, jolting with the spasms of intense pleasure as the first orgasm in months with her husband within her body, blossomed.

"Mmmm, H…Right there… Right there…oh, god…H…H…oh…oh…oh…H…H…"

As the upheaval overwhelmed her body, the sights and sounds of Clarice in orgasm overwhelmed Hannibal.

Driving his hips to his end Hannibal tucked his face alongside hers. Pressed against Clarice's warm cheek, he allowed his body to drive recklessly toward the orgasm denied for so long, Hannibal growled his release, his body jolting uncontrollably as the ecstasy pulsed from him, filling his wife.

Clarice held Hannibal until his body stilled.

The lovers rested in one another's arms, neither feeling any need to speak. Several hours passed before the baby stirred. Hannibal brought the child to his wife. She nursed their son as Hannibal held them both. They rested together quietly, Hannibal listening to the rain fall as his son suckled quietly.

His last thought as he drifted to sleep…

_Argentina._

_**Until the next chapter my friends,**_

_**LH**_


	143. Chapter 143

**IN THE LIGHT OF DAY**

With good reason, Hannibal woke before Clarice.

The storm of the evening passed leaving a bright morning with the promise of a brilliant day. Sitting up in bed, Hannibal stretched his arms and attempted a deep breath. His ribs protested the expansion and punished his efforts with a stabbing pain. Placing his palm on his side, he pressed against the throbbing as he stood from the bed. Inhaling deeply as the agony seared his nerve endings, Hannibal Lecter focused on the source and effectively closed the door on his pain. Discomfort successfully compartmentalized, he prepared to go on about his day.

_I'm getting too old for this…_

Walking silently around the bed and bending carefully, Hannibal Lecter lifted his namesake from his sleeping wife's arms and carried the baby to his crib. He didn't want to chance that his wife would see his face and, with the baby in her arms, overreact thus frightening their child.

* * *

><p>With his son's diaper changed and the boy returned to his crib, Hannibal moved to the kitchen, whipped up a quick batch of homemade blueberry muffins and prepared the coffee hoping the scent of freshly baked goods and coffee brewing might entice his wife from her slumber.<p>

_How long will it take to ease you into this, my Love? Will you turn to face me the moment you wake or can I rely on you to begin your day slowly?_

Upon his return, Hannibal approached the bed just as Clarice stirred to consciousness. He smoothed a hand on her back.

"Good morning, Clarice."

Turning her head slightly but not opening her eyes, Clarice responded, her voice hazy with sleep, "G'morning, H…where's Dev?"

"Changed and sleeping soundly in his crib. He nursed as you slept this morning."

Hannibal removed his robe, climbed into bed and fully nude with the exception of the bandage, edged very gently against his wife.

Hannibal reached over her shoulder and with his index finger moved an errant lock of hair from her face, whispering, "I'm going to shower now, my Love. When I finish, before I put on my clothing, you might like to have a look at my injuries. A good many won't be visible once I've dressed."

Barely awake, Clarice responded without turning over, "Yeah…okay, H. You can show me your arm when you get out."

"I'll need to show you more than my arm, Clarice."

Believing Hannibal was making a veiled reference to sex, she reached back blindly and slapped at him playfully.

"Hell, H don't you ever get enough? You're going without until tonight. I was cleared for sex, not for nymphomania."

He chuckled at the assumption.

"Though that was not my point, if _you_ are discussing hypersexuality, it is referred to as nymphomania in females. For males, it is termed satyriasis, Clarice."

She spoke as she gathered the pillow around her face, her voice muffled within the downy comfort, "Well, you just keep a lid on your _satry-whatever_ until tonight, Hot Stuff!"

"As you wish, Clarice."

Hannibal stood from the bed just as Clarice's cell phone began to hum on the nightstand, bouncing along in vibration mode. Hannibal looked at the display. It was Ardelia.

_Here we go…_

"Your friend is ringing your cell phone, Clarice. You might want to take the call now. She'll be concerned if you continue to put her off."

Her mind attempting to return to sleep, Clarice questioned, "What?"

"Ardelia continues to call, Clarice."

"Thanks, H…I'll call her while you're in the shower."

_Still not looking up, Clarice? You'll be quite upset with yourself..._

Hannibal continued, entertained by the interplay as he tempted her to turn and face him.

"I prepared the coffee and there are muffins still warm from the oven in the kitchen. That will hold you until I come down and prepare you a proper breakfast. My shower may take longer than usual as I'm battered and a bit sore. Perhaps you might like to join me? Possibly wash my back for me? It may prove difficult in my current state."

Reaching across the bed, Clarice grabbed Hannibal's pillow, and without turning her face, slinging her arm like that of a trebuchet smacked him with on the shoulder with it. She then dragged the pillow over her body and hugged it.

"I'm on to you, playing possum trying to get me in that shower. I already told you, H, you're waiting until tonight, _like it or not_."

Clarice's cell phone began to hum again.

"Very well, my Love, you tend to your friend. Apparently her need for you is greater than mine. I shall attempt to muddle through."

"You don't go playing the wounded little boy, I'll take care of _your needs_ tonight, H."

"I shall accept whatever assistance you offer without complaint, Clarice."

As Clarice gently rolled to retrieve the phone, Hannibal slowly rose from the bed and walked toward the bathroom. He was unconcerned being seen from behind, as the damage to his body was restricted to the anterior side. He smiled to himself, careful not to draw undue attention as he walked to the bathroom to take his shower.

_Ardelia will explain what you would not see for yourself. How will you react, I wonder? Anger? Upset? Guilt? Knowing you, my Love, it will most likely be some combination of the three. No matter. Whatever your reaction, it will soon pass when you realize I am no longer in danger._

Clarice put on her robe and walked behind Hannibal smoothing a hand on his back as he entered the bathroom.

"Thanks H, I'd kill for a cup of coffee and a muffin. I'll give Dee a call and come back to check your arm."

"Certainly, Clarice."

Hannibal actually found it entertaining, this little game of cat and mouse. He was really quite surprised that Clarice had not yet discovered his injuries. It isn't as if he had hidden the facts dramatically. He was very clear he had been injured therefore he could hardly be faulted if she had not pursued the details or severity of the injuries. No doubt Ardelia had seen the coverage and would be filling her in on the particulars. Hannibal stepped into the shower and prepared for the real storm.

* * *

><p>Clarice poured herself a cup of coffee and began eating a muffin still warm from the oven, as she dialed her friend. Sitting at the breakfast bar she was pulling small pieces from the fruity cake popping them in her mouth waiting for Ardelia to answer the phone.<p>

Ardelia picked up and immediately, without waiting for Clarice's salutation, or offering a hello of her own, spoke abruptly.

"Clarice? We've been sick to death over Hannibal! Is he okay? Logan's been driving me crazy! We worried all night."

Clarice was clueless and caught totally off guard by the response.

"Hell, Dee, why are you so freaked out over this? Christ, all we did was go to the zoo! It was no big deal…the baby's fine."

Logan's voice could clearly be heard in the background.

"How's my buddy? What's going on?"

Ardelia responded to Logan first, urging, "Babe, give me a break. I know you're worried, but be quiet a second, I don't know yet…"

Ardelia returned to Clarice, "_The baby?_ Who the hell's talking about the baby? I'm talking about _your husband_!"

It was obvious by her tone that Clarice was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"H is fine, why _wouldn't_ he be? _What the fuck is going on, Dee_?"

"I saw the coverage of him getting attacked on the Mall last night. The footage was all over every station and it was unbelievably graphic, Clarice. I don't know what he looks like now, but that knife wound on his arm and the damage to his eye? Jesus, I don't get it. How could you not think that was a big deal?"

"_What knife wound?_ Stop fucking with me Dee! What are you_ talking_ about? He hurt his arm at the carousel, that's all."

Realizing her friend hadn't a clue, Ardelia quickly explained.

"No, Clarice, I don't know what he told you but Hannibal was mugged near the carousel! Girl, just go put on the news you can't miss it. Hell, they've been running the footage every few minutes. What does his face look like, anyway? His eye looked closed."

Clarice was embarrassed to admit she hadn't paid attention to him this morning, and last night, when he said he was injured she left it alone.

Pangs of guilt crushed her chest as she regretfully admitted, "Fuck all, Dee, I don't know what he looks like."

"What? Didn't he come home?"

"Yeah, but I was already in bed and I didn't look at him, okay! We had sex then we went to sleep. It was dark."

"You're kidding me! How the hell did that man have sex last night?"

Clarice could hear Logan in the background shouting, "Sex? Did she say she had sex with him last night? That man is fucking superhuman! That's some god-like shit right there!"

Ardelia's response to Logan was muffled, making it obvious the mouthpiece of the phone was covered, "Are you _kidding_ me?"

Logan, unable to control himself continued, "Okay…sorry. I'm just saying that man's my fucking hero. Literally and figuratively."

"_Jesus!_ Shut the hell up, Logan!"

Clarice was mortified.

"Christ, Dee…_did you have to repeat that in front of Logan_? That's _all_ I need right now, as if I don't feel embarrassed enough already."

"Sorry Clarice…it's just…how could you be that close to him and _not_ know?"

"I don't know. He took a shower and got in bed and then, well…it was great and he seemed fine."

"You think he was trying to hide it?"

I don't know. If he was hiding it, it would only be because last night was the first time we could…well, you already know that happened so, he might not have wanted to wait. It's been a long time. He did tell me he was injured I just assumed he was talking about his arm. Oh, Christ!"

"What?"

"He asked me to help him wash his back, but I thought he was just trying to get me in the shower so I brushed him off. He even told me to come up in a few minutes and look at the damage before he got dressed. I just assumed…"

Ardelia interrupted, "Well, I guess the lesson here is you probably shouldn't assume anything when it comes to Hannibal. Trust me when you watch that footage you'll see there's no damned way in the world that man's fine, Clarice. Hang up the phone, go watch the news and then go take care of your husband. Call me later, okay."

"Yeah, okay Dee. I'll call you later."

Clarice hurried into the family room and put on the television.

A reporter stood beside the man who had spoken to Hannibal by the carousel.

"So, you spoke to Doctor Lecter before the attack?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"Can you tell us what he said? What was his mood?"

"He was in a good mood. He told me he came into the city for business and that now that his business was finished, he was looking forward to going home to his wife and his baby."

"Did you approach him or did he approach you?"

"He approached me, but I didn't know who he was at first. He saw me taking video of my daughter on the carousel. She has red hair and she's a really adventurous little girl so he was admiring how brave she was to ride the dragon and not one of the pretty horses. He said she was beautiful and said she really reminded him of his wife, Clarice. When I heard the name...Clarice, I realized who he was and turned to look at him. That's when I saw it was Doctor Lecter. Then, he said he wanted to get home to his wife and wished my family well. That was about it."

"What made you direct the camera toward him?"

"My wife came back with our little girl and when I pointed Doctor Lecter out, I saw the men approach him and it looked sort of shady. Since I already knew he came to town alone, I thought there might be a problem so I started rolling the camera for evidence and I asked my wife to go find the police. I was worried at first, but Doctor Lecter came out okay."

"Does he know you have this footage?"

"Yes, I offered it to him but he told me to sell it. That it would be his donation to my daughter's college fund. Trust me, it's paid for in full and then some."

"Well, I'm sure the network was happy to help with that. Thanks for sharing your compelling story. Let's run the footage and have a look."

The reporter cued producer and the station began running the video.

As she prepared to watch the coverage, it dawned on Clarice her husband had absorbed the damage, because he didn't want to chance embarrassing his family at the zoo and had left the Harpy home.

_Oh god, it's my fault! He was upset and left without protection…he could have been killed._

As Clarice watched her husband stand his ground against a man with a knife, she wanted to scream at the television. She wanted to warn him, to tell him to run, but she knew from Ardelia the damage had been done. She watched, helpless as Hannibal disarmed the man with the knife, breaking his arm.

_Good, H…good... get that knife and stab the son of a bitch._

When she realized the knife went unrecovered as the second man attacked, her heart pounded. Reaching for a pillow, she hugged it tightly to her chest in an attempt to still it, to no avail.

The moment the second man attacked, the terrified wife watched helplessly as her husband was tackled in the mud and punched mercilessly. Hannibal struggled for several minutes until he was finally able to gain the advantage. Clarice watched her husband beat the man absolutely senseless.

Suddenly, the first man, broken arm swinging like an open gate, prepared to challenge once more.

_Oh, God…H…the knife! _

Clarice gasped the moment she saw the first attacker recover long enough to retrieve the knife and once again challenge Hannibal in an attempt to get him away from the unconscious man.

_H…why didn't you run, H…why? _

Though the possibility of his escape was her first thought, she was forced to turn it away. Clarice knew that wasn't in Hannibal's nature. Who was she kidding? It wasn't in her nature either.

_You just don't have it in you to turn tail and run, do you, H? Why do these idiots have to measure their manhood against yours? They won't win. You won't let them._

Clarice looked at Hannibal's eyes, glowing on the screen as he fought for dominance. He didn't look frightened, he looked exhilarated. She couldn't fault him for being true to himself, but she couldn't help being hurt for him. He was just trying to come home to her. At least he better have been. Clarice allowed herself a moment to consider, when she looked at the video, that Hannibal may have actually been enjoying himself.

_Don't let me find out you wanted this…don't let me think you'd put yourself in jeopardy. We have a son now, H…you're not alone anymore…_

By the time the gash was torn in her husband's arm, Clarice was sobbing uncontrollably. When, finally, Hannibal was able to block the attack and turn the tables, regaining control of the situation, Clarice was absolutely inconsolable as tears streamed down her face unabated. She sat for a moment, wondering why, knowing he was home and safe, she had been so overcome with emotion. She knew it was time to go upstairs and look at her husband but believed she might break down again. Her internal dialogue, meant to serve as a pep talk, was proving less than successful.

_Okay, Clarice, keep in mind he's going to look like shit, but he's fine. I mean, we made love so he's fine…still…what kind of wife hears her husband talk about being injured without putting on a light and looking at the fucking man? He said injuries, __**plural**__. He offered for me to look at the damage before he dressed so he wasn't trying to hide it. He was telling me the arm wasn't all of it. He couldn't have been trying to hide it…he was walking around the bedroom. Hell, he got in bed with me and I didn't even turn to look at him…Christ…I even hit him…oh god, what kind of a wife hits a man she knows is hurt… Fuck all…I suck at this!_

* * *

><p>Clarice hurried up the stairs and rushed to the master suite. Approaching the bathroom, she rested her hand on the door, almost afraid to open it. The moment she lifted her arm, displacing the air preparing to knock, Hannibal spoke.<p>

"_Clarice?"_

"Hey, H…I came to help you wash your back if you still need it."

"Not to worry, I was able to manage."

"Sorry, H…I'm so sorry. Can I come in?"

Hannibal detected the intense anxiety altering her scent, thus he spoke with confidence attempting to reassure.

"Clarice, you are aware there are no locked doors between us. You may enter as you wish."

Gripping the knob she turned it, holding her breath as she swung the door open and pushed through. Clarice stood in the bathroom staring at her feet, nervous to look up at him.

Hannibal continued to shower, vigorously soaping his chest, his injured arm covered in some sort of medical plastic wrap.

"Did you speak with your friend, Clarice?"

"Yes…I saw the coverage too. It's all over the news. H? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was quite clear, my Love. I told you I was injured near the carousel."

Anger rising she insisted, "H…let's not fuck around with semantics. You hid it from me last night."

"I told you I was injured and said I preferred to make love rather than discuss it. How can that be considered hiding it?"

"You wanted the room dark."

"My eye is damaged and the light would have exacerbated the injury. I am still rather photosensitive, Clarice. Even if, as you suggest, I did attempt to avoid revealing the injuries, might it not be because I wanted to make love and knew, had you seen the impairments, you would have denied me out of concern for my health?"

Arms folded across her chest she affirmed indignantly, "Damned straight I would've denied it!"

Hannibal remained unaffected by her ire, realizing it would soon be supplanted with regret.

"That being the case I made the correct decision since my need for you last night as it is each and every day and night, especially considering the months of waiting, was quite extreme."

"Okay, whatever. I need to see you. Can you step out of the shower? Are you through?"

"Of course, my Love." Hannibal turned off the stream of water and, after sweeping his palms over his body to quickly wick some of the water from his skin, stepped boldly from the shower making absolutely no effort to reach for a towel to cover up the damage. He stood in front of his wife.

Her mouth fell open as she assessed his body.

"Oh, God…oh my God…what did they do to you?"

Hannibal reached for his wife and smoothed his hands up and down her arms, enjoying the sensation of her flesh under the pads of his fingertips.

"Trust me, far less than I did to them, my Love."

Upon seeing the totality of damage, Clarice gasped, "Oh, my god, H! It looks horrible. Your goddamned eye is completely closed and both your eyes are black."

"That is because the second man fractured my nose. I was forced to allow the contact to gain a better ground position. It isn't attractive, but it is not dangerous, nor is it painful, unless of course you choose to hit me, again. That would prove uncomfortable, I'm sure."

Clarice lifted her hand to his face and stroked his cheek gently with the back of her hand even as her tears began to fall.

"God, H…I'm so sorry…how could I not know you were hurt?"

Hannibal quickly embraced his wife. "My Love, it appears far worse than it feels. You know my physical abilities are not diminished. Did I not please you last night?"

Almost afraid to hold him she let her hands settle on his hips, careful not to lean against him.

"Hell yes, but how do you think that makes me feel? You must have been in absolute agony! Everyone in the fucking world found out before I did and I slept in your arms! I feel like the crappiest wife in the world."

Hannibal rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Nonsense, Clarice. I was not in agony. You have seen me absorb far more damage without any outward suffering. You do understand I have the ability to fully abrogate pain. You have witnessed it before."

Clarice gathered her courage, lifted her head and met his eyes. Not only were they blackened, but the sclera was damaged as well and instead of being white, was now fully blood filled. This, combined with the red of his irises, flooded the entire surface of the orbs with a deep shade of crimson, giving him an eerie appearance.

"Oh God, H, your eyes! Don't you try and pretend it doesn't hurt."

Hannibal lifted her chin and held it, forcing her to look at him.

"When I feel any level of discomfort, as I did last night, I take a moment, focus on the problem and put it aside. I understand seeing me in this way hurts you. Please, Clarice, focus and put it aside."

"I can't see in here. Get in the bedroom and show me everything."

Clarice very gently took his hand and led him to the bedroom making him sit on the bed so that she could see the injury to his eye up close.

"Okay, take me through it and show me everything."

Hannibal spent the next several minutes showing Clarice his cuts and bruises. She looked at the gash in his arm.

"That probably needs stitches."

"The butterfly closures will serve the same purpose."

Dejected, Clarice sat beside Hannibal. He didn't speak, and for a time, neither did she. Clarice simply leaned toward her husband and rested her head on his shoulder.

Finally, Clarice spoke quietly, "H?"

"Yes, my Love."

"Please, tell me you didn't encourage that situation. You looked as if you were having a blast, injuries aside."

Hannibal paused. This made Clarice shift her body and face him.

"H...don't you lie to me. Did you bait those men?"

Relieved at her wording, he didn't need to lie, "No, Clarice. They saw me get out of the car and began trailing me. I approached the man at the carousel hoping, in the event they attacked, he would record the event as evidence. I will admit, however, that once the attack was inevitable, I rather enjoyed the exchange. Does that anger you?"

Clarice considered the statement. Of course he fought back. Hell, she would have too. She couldn't fault him for being himself.

"Just promise you'll keep me and Dev in mind and attempt to avoid this sort of thing in the future."

Hannibal leaned over and kissed his wife. "I'll endeavor to keep that in mind, my Love."

"When we married, I promised myself your body had seen its last scar. I haven't been able to keep that promise."

Hannibal smoothed a hand on her thigh.

"It wasn't a realistic promise to make, Clarice. You have had no control over what has happened to me."

"Other than the day you went after that panther, none of the new scars happened in Argentina. We were happy there."

Hannibal reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing gently.

"Yes, we were, though we are still."

"H? Is Devyni old enough to fly?"

"Yes, Clarice."

Clarice lifted their joined hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles, still raw from the attack. She then took his hand and clutched it to her heart and spoke softly, "H…how long will it take to make travel arrangements?"

**Until the last chapter my friends, **

**LH**


	144. Chapter 144

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Forgive the length, but after 144 chapters…**

If you have read along, but chose not to review to this point, please consider doing so now as I would love the opportunity to thank you for your dedication to my story directly.

I have made so many long and lasting friends. Forgive this indulgence.

For those of you who know how difficult this year has been for me, thank you. There were days when I didn't know if I could face another sunrise, much less another chapter, still, my friends on this site pulled me through. With love and respect, I will forgo pen names for a moment, as I would like to speak the names in order to honor those who trusted to share their personal lives with me. You will never know what this has meant to my life. In a very real sense, it saved me.

I am so honored to count you as friends, Lora (my twin), Mel, Ronald, Steph, Taylor (my dear writing buddy), Samm, Hollie (Hell's Revenge!), Leah, Z, Amber, Heather, Boris Y and April, thanks so much! If I have left anyone out, forgive me.

To my unbelievably dedicated reviewers who stuck with the story, writing so many helpful and encouraging comments throughout the fic- know how humbled I have been, not only by your intense dedication to my story, but also, that you took the time from your busy lives not only to read, but also review. Many people have read the story. There are more than 80,000 views to date, but few take the time to share a word or two. I appreciate, not only the kind words, but also the constructive criticism. One does aim to improve.

Though we have never spoken, I would like to offer a very special thanks to Demeter1973, Kalabangsilver, and Green Jewels. Their fics inspired me to write my own, setting a standard of excellence to which I continually strive.

Major, Duffie and, of course, Bookish Gal, your talents are awe-inspiring. Would that I one day approach your skill.

Lusting4Lecter, what would I do without you, my very dear friend? Know how important you are to me.

Though the words 'thank you' cannot approach my appreciation, I offer my modest thanks to you all for joining me on this wonderful journey. It has truly been a gift.

LH

**THE JOURNEY HOME**

Hannibal sat at the computer comparing various modes of transportation so he might better make the arrangements for travel.

After checking a variety of options, he decided it would be more convenient, and most importantly more secure for the family if he were to hire a private plane to fly the distance. It would not only make the trip much more comfortable, if the plane were large enough, they could accommodate their vehicles as well.

After some very quick research, he was able to locate a private charter company with a luxury outfitted Boeing 757 VIP capable of transporting the family with safety and elegance and include both the Bentley and Mustang. Not wanting to part with his car, he didn't think it fair to ask Clarice to do so either, so this seemed the most practical consideration.

Hannibal made a phone call to a concierge service to make the final arrangements. Within minutes, the pilot confirmed availability and the good doctor received an itinerary. They would be in Argentina tomorrow evening. That would give Clarice time to spend with her friends, perhaps a final dinner, then, finally, home.

_Soon, I will have you to myself, my Love. No one will look over my shoulder and wonder whether or not I am a danger to them. No one will look at you and wonder how you could have married me or if our child will be in some way genetically deficient because of my so-called crimes. I know you are saddened to leave. Perhaps, I can make an arrangement that will make the transition easier on you. Yes. That could work. _

There was no need to pack very many items as the home in San Martin de Los Andes was already fully stocked. They would need to have food delivered to the home upon arrival but as for packing they need only bring whatever clothing they deemed necessary for themselves, the trip and the baby's wardrobe. By the time they returned to Baltimore, his son's current wardrobe would no longer fit so Hannibal set about to pack.

* * *

><p>Clarice went out with Ardelia and the baby to explain what was happening and spend some time just being together. As much as Clarice loved being with Hannibal, and Ardelia loved being with Logan, there were times neither woman loved being with Logan-loving-being-with-Hannibal. That could be a tad overwhelming.<p>

Hearing the news, Ardelia expressed confusion, "What do you mean you're leaving?"

Clarice began ringing a spoon around the inside of her teacup, intensely aware of the other patrons most of whom were middle aged women attempting to sneak glances at the baby. Wary, her eyes constantly scanned the small teashop searching her periphery for any sudden movements.

She didn't _need_ Hannibal to feel safe, but when out with the baby, she did feel much more secure when he was near. Not because she couldn't protect herself or her son, but because Hannibal had a certain predatory anticipation that provided a level of protection she, to this point, could not. Clarice lifted the cup to her lips, took a soothing sip and set it down, fully confident in her decision to return to Argentina with her family.

"Dee, this was never going to be a permanent situation. H didn't want to come back at all, but I needed to be closer to you for the pregnancy. My husband is wonderful, but he's a man and a very pragmatic man at that. I just wanted to be around you 'cuz I knew you'd understand how I felt. H conceded but we were only supposed to stay long enough to have the baby. It's time to take care of H's needs now. He's been through too much for me."

Ardelia's face and the expressiveness of her voice spoke her distress, "So out comes the baby, we all fall in love with him and with Hannibal and we love being around you, too and you're just off with your family and screw your friends is that it?"

Clarice was crushed by her friend's comments and though it pained her to think she was hurting Ardelia, Hannibal and the baby had to come first.

"Come on, Dee, you saw what they did to him the other night. Even when he's trying to avoid situations, _trouble finds him_. Hannibal's like a gunfighter who wants to hang up his weapon, but every kid in town with a little fuzz on his peaches wants to see how they measure up. I can't have my husband in a freaking dick measuring contest every other day that might get him killed. Right now, it's just way too public and Hannibal doesn't have it in him to live like this. Not the way he'd have to in order to stay safe anyway. When someone stands in front of him and calls him out, he doesn't have it in him to run."

"Why can't he run? Ego?"

Clarice didn't know if Ardelia would understand.

"No, he doesn't_ have_ an ego like that. He won't back down because to H, situations like the other night are just…"

"Are just what?"

"Situations like that are just..._fun_."

"Fun? Yeah, I guess I can see that. Would you be back at all?"

"Sure, we're keeping the house and H's got no problem coming back to visit; we just need to let things calm down here for a while. People are way too curious."

"Yeah, he's like a freaking celebrity now. Maybe when things die down a bit it won't be so weird."

"Don't forget, you can come to our place, too."

"I guess. So what does he look like? How's the eye?"

"When he first woke up, it was just about closed, but he's been taking good care of it and even though it's pretty intensely bruised, he can see out of it with no problem. He's got a fractured nose too."

"Shit, Clarice. That must hurt like hell."

"Well, if it does, you'd never know it. That man wouldn't complain if you set him on fire."

"Logan would be whining like a puppy. He's not very good when it comes to that sort of thing. He's...shit"

"What?"

"Damn, Clarice…how am I going to tell Logan you're taking your husband and the baby and leaving the country. He's going to lose his mind."

Clarice lifted her son from the carrier for no more reason than her sudden need to hold him.

"I hadn't thought of that. Sure won't be pretty."

Grabbing the baby's chubby little thigh, Ardelia smiled, trying not to consider what she was up against.

"I really don't feel like seeing a grown man cry."

"Aw come on. He's not going to cry over it."

Ardelia lost her appetite, pushing the dish with the large cinnamon bun to the center of the table, signaling the completion of the meal.

"Hell, that boy'll be so upset he'll probably crap kittens."

Clarice laughed at the often-used term. "Yeah, have fun with that."

"Do you know when you're leaving?"

"Not yet. H was going to make the arrangements while we were out. I only know it will be soon. Tomorrow probably."

"Okay, well, I'll have to break the news to Logan, so when you find out just give me a call with the details."

"Want to do dinner tonight?"

"Sure. Tell Hannibal I'll bake something. Just give him the head's up that Logan will be a little bit needy."

"H will handle it. Don't worry."

* * *

><p>The dinner went very smoothly, though Logan was uncharacteristically quiet. When Clarice suggested the men go relax in Hannibal's study, Hannibal bristled slightly but graciously led the way. Barney followed amiably and Logan shuffled out of the room looking as if someone had stolen his lunch money.<p>

Clarice and Ardelia cleaned up as the baby napped in his small carrier beside them.

Looking over her shoulder at him, Ardelia was amazed, "He's an incredible little guy, Clarice. He's so quiet."

"He takes after his dad. If you look at him for a few minutes you can see he's thinking. He just sits there and watches everything going on around him. I swear you can see the wheels turning; it's pretty amazing. I'll go bring a tray of coffee and dessert to the guys. Hang out with the little man and check him out. Trust me…you won't believe it."

Clarice set slices of the pie Ardelia baked, a pot of coffee, several cups and utensils on a tray and carried it to the study to provide the men a snack.

"Sure, you go on ahead and feed the men. I'll bond with the baby before you go stealing him off to the jungle."

"Jungle…as if."

Clarice rolled her eyes and without another word, left to take the tray to the men.

Ardelia sat at the table and began tracing her hand over the baby's fingers. She then gripped the edge of the carrier and watched.

Young Hannibal's clear blue eyes followed her movement blinking so infrequently the moment his eyes closed autonomically, it seemed almost an event. He then reached for Ardelia's hand and traced his fingers over hers. The moment he completed the movement, he gripped the edge of the carrier and watched her, waiting.

"Oh my God you brilliant little guy. What else can you do?"

Ardelia leaned over the small carrier and gripped her nose with the tips of her fingers. She then placed her hand back on the carrier.

The baby stared at her for a moment, his tiny eyebrows knitted together.

Ardelia laughed, "You want me to do it again? Okay, watch carefully." She repeated the motion and returned her hand to the side of the carrier.

Hannibal released the carrier and gripped his nose. He then replaced his hand and watched Ardelia.

"Wow, you really are incredible aren't you?"

Clarice entered the room. "Who's incredible?"

"You do know this baby is an absolute freaking little genius, don't you?"

"Of course he is. His dad's I.Q. is off the charts. They never could actually get a number for him. I expect Dev will have a bit of that, too."

"A bit of it? He's got all of it. The one thing I don't get is…he just stares at me. He doesn't look angry or anything he just kinda watches me. Has he smiled yet?"

"No, but he should any day now. Babies usually have their first spontaneous smile when they're around six to eight weeks old."

"I'm sure he can smile already. He just doesn't want to yet."

"Yeah, well the normal peek-a-boo bull isn't going to work with him, that's for sure. He's not really fooled by it. I tried it and he looked at me like I was an idiot. I can't wait to see what gets to him for the first time; he's a tough audience."

"Well, I'm not surprised. He is Hannibal's son and I've never really seen your husband smile."

"What? Sure you have. He smiles all the time."

"No, I've seen that wry little grin a lot, but never one of those big smiles that make your face hurt. What makes your husband smile? And I mean a huge, hurts-your-face-smile!"

Clarice blushed.

"Nothing I'd do in front of my son, that's for sure!"

"Well, ask Hannibal. He has the answers to everything else so I imagine he'd probably have some clue how to make his own son smile."

Clarice nodded, "Yeah…I'll do that."

* * *

><p>When it was time for the friends to leave, Barney was expeditious, as if he were a man on a mission. He shook Hannibal's hand, the pair exchanged a quick nod and Barney was off with a wave.<p>

Upon parting, Clarice and Ardelia had a bit of a moment. Their final hug went from a loving, friendly exchange between girlfriends, to a squeezing embrace with tears flowing freely from the pair.

Logan stood off to the side with his fists stuffed into his pockets, scuffing the ball of his foot repeatedly against the cement of the sidewalk.

Hannibal stood very quietly, watching the interaction clearly unaffected by the level of emotion.

When the women finally parted, Ardelia called Logan.

"Come on, Babe. Let's not make this any worse than it already is."

Staring at his feet, Logan didn't move.

Clarice walked up to Hannibal, tipped her head gesturing toward Logan and whispered to her husband, "C'mon, H…take one for the team."

Hannibal stared blankly at Clarice.

"H…_please?_"

"_Clarice…_"

She mouthed the words_, "For me, H…"_

Clarice, knowing he would never refuse her appeal stood with her hands outstretched, clearly waiting for her husband to hand over their son and address her request.

Hannibal remained very still for several moments, obviously not wanting to relate on this level. Emotional interaction with anyone other than Clarice was not only unnecessary to his existence it was on a very real level, distasteful to him.

With a single blink, he disconnected his personal discomfort from the experience, handed his wife their baby and with a gracious smile, descended the steps.

Logan's eyes lit up when he saw Hannibal approach, extending his hand.

"Logan, take care of yourself, my friend. I value the bond you've formed with my family and want you to know you are welcome in our home at any time."

Logan brightened, shaking Hannibal's hand vigorously, "Thanks, Hannibal. I'll miss our friendship, I really will."

"You shouldn't see this as an end to our friendship. You have my phone number. I invite you to call at any time."

Ecstatic at the invitation, Logan reached into his pocket and spontaneously searched the directory of his cell phone to assure he still had Hannibal's listing. When the number was confirmed, he smiled widely, placed the phone in his pocket patting it for added security and returned, "I thought that number was for emergency use only."

"Nonsense. If you'd like to touch base or perhaps arrange to visit, you are welcome to call."

Logan's eyes shifted to Ardelia.

"_See_, I told you he wouldn't mind."

Ardelia shook her head, "He wouldn't mind if you called _occasionally_. Not every day, Logan."

Logan, embarrassed Ardelia would make a comment in front of Hannibal that might have made him appear needy, protested vehemently, "What am I, a ten year old girl? I wouldn't call _every_ day."

Obviously now self-conscious, Logan turned to Hannibal and defended, "Seriously Doc, I swear I wouldn't."

Hannibal nodded as a droll smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm quite certain you would not. As I stated previously, please bring Ardelia and visit as soon as you are both able."

"We will…we definitely will!" Logan, feeling more confident with his place in the world, asked his friend a final question.

"Hannibal, don't take this the wrong way but would you mind if I kissed your wife goodbye? Nothing creepy; on the cheek of course."

Hannibal raised a hand, gesturing his assent.

"With my blessing."

Turning toward Clarice, Logan leaned toward his former colleague and kissed her on the cheek.

"We'll see you soon, Clarice." He then reached his finger and nudged the baby's hand. The moment young Hannibal gripped the larger man's finger, Logan lifted the baby's arm up and down as if they were shaking hands, addressing the child directly.

"I'll catch you later, Little Dude. Your Uncle Logan will see you soon. I promise."

Seeing Logan's eyes begin to tear as the baby held the digit, Ardelia, worried she too might succumb, tugged Logan's arm.

"Time to go, Babe."

Logan, feeling far better, put his arm around Ardelia and called back, waving enthusiastically. "See you soon!"

Clarice stood beside Hannibal, gently held their baby's arm and, mimicking Logan's gesture, began waving her son's hand.

Logan waved all the way to the car, held the door and helped Ardelia enter the passenger side. He then walked around the car, still waving.

The moment he started the car, Logan opened the moon-roof, stuck his hand out of the opening and, as was his habit, waved the entire way down the street beeping the horn.

Hannibal and Clarice watched the scene, incredulous.

Hannibal commented first.

"One is forced to consider, if he is holding the steering wheel and waving simultaneously, with what body part is he engaging the horn?"

"Well, based on what Dee says, I can tell you what part it isn't."

"I am heartened your information is _second_ hand, Clarice."

"Don't be such a wise ass, H!"

Clarice and Hannibal waited on the steps of their home, watching the car move down the street turning to go inside only after the car turned the corner.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, that boy is definitely all foam and no beer."

Hannibal laughed at his wife's colorful colloquialism, "Another of the many reasons I am so in love with you, Clarice. Your stellar command of the English language."

"Thanks for doing that for me, H. I'm sure it really means a lot to Logan to be accepted and I know it will make Ardelia's life better. She said he was pouting all day."

"Not to worry, Clarice. For you, anything."

Clarice smiled, "I know, H…I know."

* * *

><p>As Clarice bathed the baby preparing him for bed, Hannibal entered the room. He stood silently just over her right shoulder watching the loving scene with rapt attention.<p>

Clarice, thinking of her earlier conversation with Ardelia, began to obsess about the baby's seeming reluctance to smile. Though it was consuming her thoughts, she didn't think it important enough to verbally express the concern to her husband. He had enough on his mind.

"I can hear the veritable wheels turning, Clarice."

"What?"

Hannibal continued to stand and watch his wife with their child. He could sense the heightened stress level and spoke his concern, "You're obviously preoccupied; I wondered whether your anxiety has to do with our travel plans? Are you, perhaps, having second thoughts?"

Smoothing a plush washcloth over the baby she answered with a hint of hesitation, "I'm sorry, H. No second thoughts. Sometimes I forget you can read my mind."

Moving behind his wife, Hannibal placed his hands on the flank of her hips and pulled her against his body. Nestling his chin along the gentle curve of her neck, he continued to watch as she tended their child.

"Not read your mind as such, however I am exceptionally attuned to your physiology. You are obviously anxious. Is there something I can do to alleviate your upset?"

Her response had a slightly sardonic tone, "Nope, not unless you can speak baby."

"Clarice?"

She paused, no longer washing the baby, just holding him.

The child splashed a bit, stopping and waiting as if he sensed something was amiss.

"He never smiles, H. Don't you think he should be smiling by now?"

"Our son is very intelligent, Clarice. If he is amused, he will smile. If he isn't, he won't. Have you attempted anything he might find entertaining?"

"Well, I tried to play peek-a-boo, but he clearly wasn't amused."

"That may be because peek-a-boo is fairly moronic, Clarice."

"Okay, so baby games don't work on _our_ baby, _awesome._ If you've got a better idea, let's have it."

Hannibal stood very quietly for a few moments, reached for Clarice's arm and slipped a thin silver bracelet from her wrist.

"May I, my Love?"

"What are you doing H?"

"I am going to prove to you that our son is perfectly capable of smiling when he finds something amusing, Clarice."

Hannibal scooped some of the bubbles from the bathwater and held out his hand allowing his son to pat the foam and test the texture. When he was certain the baby fully explored the glistening lather, Hannibal dipped his hand in the water and rinsed away the froth. He then held the bracelet in front of his son, encouraging the baby to touch the piece.

"H?"

"Patience, Clarice. Allow the boy to learn."

When the baby finished exploring the object, Hannibal dipped it in the water and raised the hoop, now coated with a soapy film.

When he was certain his son's eyes were fixed on the object, Hannibal blew a light, steady stream of air against the film causing bubbles to float from the bracelet.

The baby watched the bubbles emerge from the silver hoop, staring at the shimmering orbs floating over his head. Suddenly, he reached for a bubble tipped it with his finger, bursting it. The moment the bubble ruptured, a wide smile crossed the baby's face.

"Oh my God, H! Look at that smile! He's gorgeous! How did you know that would work?"

"_All_ babies love bubbles, Clarice."

Clarice left the topic alone, assuming Hannibal had had some experience with this, but as he was not volunteering additional information she thought it better not to pry. When and if he decided to share, she would listen. For now, she was thankful her baby was smiling.

* * *

><p>The cars had been picked up by a service early the following morning in order that they be inspected and loaded on the plane in time for the flight to Buenos Aires.<p>

Hannibal spent a good part of the morning on the phone, confirming each of the many arrangements for the trip and the additional preparations he was able to organize without his wife's knowledge. He then packed the computer as Clarice packed a bag for the baby. Finished with the preparations, Hannibal walked up the stairs to see about Clarice.

Entering the baby's room, Hannibal lifted the bags Clarice packed for the flight. Hefting them, he commented, "Clarice, have you packed the crib as well?"

Instead of the normal, _wise ass _reference he was expecting, his wife responded harshly, "Don't be so ridiculous, H. I packed what we'll need. That's all."

He stood in front of Clarice, considered the emotions and ignored the tone.

"Is there anything I can do to help you, Clarice? If you ask me to stay, we will."

She paused.

Hannibal's calm voice and neutral demeanor extinguished the resentment she had spent the morning harboring.

"No, H. I'm just having a pity party."

"Am I invited or is this a one woman event?"

"Just me, H. Would you mind? Can I have a few minutes?"

"Certainly, my Love. The flight is chartered so there's no need for you to rush, as it cannot leave without us. Please, take all the time you need."

Realizing this was the home in which their son was born, that Clarice had never truly had a childhood home, and knowing his wife had very strong ties to her friends, Hannibal understood the level of emotion. He thought he might say something to alleviate her angst, but quickly decided against it.

_Better to give you the space and time needed to process your thoughts, than to step in each and every time you are upset. Even if I have predicted this reaction and come up with a contingency, it is preferable to allow you the privacy to approach your own conclusions. _

Hannibal carried the luggage down the stairs leaving Clarice to process whatever emotions she deemed necessary.

Clarice stood in the center of the room holding her son, her cheek pressed against his, holding him close and she twisted back and forth, swaying gently.

"Don't worry, Little Man, we'll be back home again soon. Maybe Daddy will let us come back for the Fourth of July, definitely from Thanksgiving to New Year's. We'll be back quite a bit so don't worry…it'll be okay. We'll have Daddy and he's really the only person we'll ever need."

Taking the baby and walking in and out of each room of the place she had grown to call home, Clarice turned out the lights and descended the stairs.

* * *

><p>As Clarice joined Hannibal in the foyer he held a hand out, reaching for her.<p>

"Are you quite all right, Clarice? Have you attended to your needs?"

"Yeah…I'm good, H…we'll be together. That's really all I care about."

"Yes, my Love. We will be together."

As Hannibal turned and locked the home, activating the alarm, a large delivery truck pulled up in front of the house. Clarice turned to her husband.

"You order something, H?"

"No, Clarice. While I do have a surprise for you, it does not involve a delivery."

The driver hopped out of the unmarked panel truck with a clipboard in his hand. He addressed Hannibal, "Doctor Lecter, I have a delivery. It's pretty large."

"My apologies, young man. We have locked up the home and are on our way to the airport to our vacation property. How large is the package?"

"It's at least as big as you are, Doctor Lecter. It's not something you can just carry-on a plane. What do you want me to do with it?"

"Are you a private courier or do you have further deliveries?"

"Both. After you, I'm done for the day."

Hannibal reached for his billfold and removed several hundred dollars.

"Is this enough to ask that you follow us to the airport? We have a private charter. The item can be loaded on the plane and delivered to our next address."

The young man stuffed the money into his pocket enthusiastically.

"Sure it is. No problem. I'll get over to the airport and have this loaded on your plane. Not to worry, I won't let you down."

"Of that I am certain, thank you."

The limousine engaged to drive the family to the airport pulled up in front of the home just as the deliveryman hopped back into his truck and headed out.

As the driver held the door, Hannibal spent a few moments securing the baby's car seat within the vehicle. He then took the baby from his wife's arms and belted him within the restraint. With a wide sweeping gesture, he invited Clarice to enter.

"Your chariot awaits my Love."

Accepting his hand she curtsied, "Thank you, kind Sir."

Clarice entered the car allowing the driver to secure the door and transport the family to the airport.

Clarice leaned against Hannibal as the car pulled away from the curb.

"Can we come back for Thanksgiving, H?"

"Yes, Clarice. We can return whenever you would like."

"Thanks, H…I knew you'd understand."

"More than you know, my Love."

Clarice was silent, so, Hannibal left her to her thoughts, content to hold her hand, stroking his thumb along the surface of her skin.

Clarice turned her head slightly attempting to covertly survey her husband's features. His bruises were deepening, and though his eye was no longer swollen closed, she knew he must be uncomfortable.

Feeling her gaze, Hannibal turned his head, their eyes meeting.

"Yes, my Love?"

"I'm sorry, H."

"There is no need, Clarice."

"We should have stayed home. You could've been killed."

"Nonsense. You need your friends, Clarice. I cannot expect you to live as solitary a life as I am accustomed, nor is it necessary. When anonymity was a concern, you were forced to do without. That is no longer a consideration."

"I don't understand, H."

"Not to worry, Clarice…you will."

* * *

><p>Boarding the plane, Hannibal took the baby from his wife's arms.<p>

"After you, my Love."

Clarice looked at Hannibal, grinning widely.

"Why do you look like the cat that ate the proverbial mouse, H?"

"Please, board the plane, Clarice."

Climbing the stairs and entering the plane, the private steward escorted Clarice to the main cabin.

Suddenly as the steward parted the curtain to the luxury cabin Clarice stood, dumbfounded.

"What the…hell?"

A cheer rang out, "_Surprise!"_

Clarice stood in the cabin, tears of disbelief and joy beginning to flow. Logan and Ardelia were sitting, holding champagne flutes. Barney quickly approached.

"Better sit down, Clarice. You look like you might faint."

Clarice turned to Hannibal.

"H?"

"Your family wished to accompany us, Clarice. You don't have any objections, do you?"

"No…oh, God, no. H…H, I can't believe it."

"Believe it, my Love. We are all going home."

Barney interrupted, "Well, everyone but me."

Clarice, believing Hannibal might benefit, urged, "You can't make it, Barney?"

"I'll be along to visit soon, but someone's got to stay behind and look after things up here. I'll make sure everything runs smoothly."

"You sure, Barney?"

"No worries, Clarice. Your husband and I have an arrangement that's mutually beneficial."

Clarice hugged Barney. "Thanks, B."

"You're welcome, Clarice." Barney turned to Logan, wagging an accusatory finger in his direction. "Hey, Marine…Do we understand each other? You remember what I told you?"

Logan began repeating, "Hannibal's not my personal playmate and he doesn't need to spend every waking moment entertaining me so I'd better get a life or you'll come down here and kick my ass!"

Barney pointed, "And don't you forget it."

Seeking a concession, Logan questioned, "But I can play with the baby whenever I want, right? Little Hannibal doesn't count?"

"As long as Clarice has no objections, you can play with the baby whenever you like."

Logan sat back in the seat, thrilled. "This is awesome…Awesome."

Clarice took the baby from her husband as the steward installed the car seat.

"Thanks, H. You amaze me."

"Then, my Love, we are even."

Clarice moved to secure the baby for the flight.

Hannibal turned and shook Barney's hand.

"Thank you for handling this, my friend."

"Not a problem, Hannibal. If Surfer Boy gets under your skin, give me a call. I'll handle it."

"I'm certain the women will keep him on a short leash. Clarice especially."

"I know that thought would keep me in check. You take care of yourself, my good friend. I'll be by for a visit in a few weeks when you baptize that baby of yours."

"You will be most welcome, Barney. Most welcome."

Logan called out, waving. "Catch you later, Barnstormer!"

Barney looked at Hannibal and whispered, "Logan? _Really_? Hannibal, are you _sure_ about this?"

"Yes, Barney. For Clarice."

"Yeah. For Clarice."

* * *

><p>The women bundled off with the baby into the house as Hannibal and Logan watched the deliverymen maneuver carefully. The crate was soon off-loaded so the deliverymen used crowbars and hammers to open the wooden crate. As the hinged door swung open there was a note attached. Hannibal lifted the envelope. Though it was sealed it had an inscription. Hannibal flipped it over, reading it quickly. It said simply:<p>

**_For Hannibal Lecter IX from your Aunt with all my Love._**

Hannibal tucked the envelope in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and stepped back as the packing material was removed.

_Can it be…impossible…_

It took two men to lift the object from the crate. They walked it forward, careful not to damage.

Logan's eyes widened.

"What the hell is that?"

"It is the full body armor once belonging to one of the Hiroshima Samurai. Apparently, it is a gift for my son."

"Who would send Little Man a suit of Japanese armor?"

"The wife of my Uncle Robert. My Aunt, Lady Murasaki."

"_You_ have an _aunt_?"

"I was not hatched, Logan. I had a family, yes, though I had long given up any hope as all of my previous attempts to contact her over the years had been summarily rejected."

"Well, now that you've got a wife and a family, maybe things have changed?"

"Perhaps. We shall see."

* * *

><p>The day had been long and eventful. Ardelia and Logan had already retired to their designated wing within the home, not wanting to intrude on Hannibal and Clarice on their first night back.<p>

The armor was set up in the music room, the child too young and the image to frightening for it to be decorative in the nursery.

Hannibal sat at his piano, playing flawlessly as he stared ahead at the object he admired so many years before. Clarice, having put the baby to bed, waited outside the door to the music room, resting her hand on the door, listening.

Hannibal detected her presence and smiled.

"Please enter, my Love. There are no locked doors between us."

Clarice opened the door and slipped within the room attempting not to disturb her husband's playing. She joined him, sitting on the bench beside him, looking at the armor.

"That mask reminds me of the mask they forced on you, H."

"There are similarities. I agree."

"Did you read the note?"

"No."

"Will you?"

Hannibal continued to play.

Clarice regrouped. "Sorry, H…I know better than to pry."

Hannibal reached within his suit and handed Clarice the envelope.

"We have no secrets, Clarice. You may read it if you wish."

"You don't want to read it?"

"Someday soon, perhaps. I've waited forty years…a while longer will not matter."

Clarice took the envelope and placed it on the music stand of the piano.

"When you're ready…not before. I love you, H."

"I love you, as well, Clarice. More than you will ever know."

"No. I know, H…I've always known."

Clarice rested her head on her husband's shoulder, contented.

Hannibal breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the woman he loved as he played, _If Love Now Reigned _on his piano. His technique was flawless, no longer encumbered by the self-inflicted injury to his hand_._ He stared ahead at the envelope, a symbol of a family, long forsaken. He was curious, but not preoccupied with thoughts of what once was. The future,_ his_ life, _this_ life, with Clarice and their baby, was far too precious.

His son was sleeping soundly in the nursery and his wife, the only woman he ever _truly_ desired, ever truly loved, _his_ Clarice sat lovingly by his side.

Smiling widely, so much so that his cheeks hurt, he pressed a kiss to the top of his wife's head. Her arms slipped around his waist, her head on his chest listening to the beat of his heart.

As Clarice pulled her body to his, holding him tight, the loving husband sighed,

"Thank you, Clarice…Thank you."

Hannibal Lecter was finally home.

**Until NMSL: Chapter three, my friends, **

**LH**


End file.
